Democracy's Demise
by Copper bandit
Summary: lame
1. Pt: 1 Trap

Title: Democracy's Demise  
Author: Copper Bandit  
Warnings: shounen-ai in future editions (?) ...  
Rating: PG-13, but there isn't any language  
Disclaimer: standard disclaimers apply  
  
"What?!" He hissed in a low whisper. "They can't have lost! No! You can't be serious!"  
  
Fred nodded. "Afraid so, old boy." The red haired boy smiled weakly at Harry. "I'm sure it won't be all that bad." Upon noticing just how desolate Harry looked he added "I'm positively sure of it."  
  
"Yeah, sure." Harry muttered distractedly as his head slunk between his arms that were propped on up on the table. "I'm sure you wouldn't be so optimistic if you were in my position."  
  
Fred smiled a little. "I wouldn't have gotten myself in your position. I don't understand why in the world you would agree to such a foolish bet."  
  
"It's not like I had a choice!" Harry snapped. "He was going to-" Harry paused, realizing he couldn't really tell Fred about how Draco had threatened to tell the professors about his sneaking about the grounds and about the cloak of invisibility. Harry trusted Fred, but didn't want the boy to constantly borrow his treasured invisibility cloak to go sneaking of to the kitchen. "Forget it. Just do me a favor and don't tell the others."  
  
"Don't worry about it." Fred said quickly. "Your secret is safe with me. Does, uh, Ron know?"  
  
"No. No one but you and me. And Draco. And I want to keep it that way if you please. It's rather embarrassing, if you know what I mean."  
  
Fred grinned. "I'll say. I feel honored that you trusted me with this Harry."  
  
Harry frowned at Fred. "I didn't want to tell anyone. You just happened to find that note..."  
  
"But if I hadn't found it you know who would have? Cynthia would have found it for sure. And we all know that if she had everyone in school would know by now. She is the biggest gossip in Hogwarts, Harry, you know that." Fred concluded pointedly.  
  
Harry nodded. "Yeah... I know. I just can't believe the Cannons lost."  
  
"Yeah, me neither." Fred agreed. "Sorry I had to be the one to pass that on to you, but I was sure you'd rather hear it from me than Draco."  
  
Groaning Harry rested his head on the Gryffandor common room table. "You just got me depressed again. I don't want to think about him," Harry spat on the last word, "or even hear his horrid name! Ugh!"  
  
The red-haired boy cleared his throat. "Well, actually Harry... I passed him on my way up here." Harry groaned again, but Fred ignored him and continued. "He told me to give you this." He dug a piece of folded parchment from his sack. "Here you go, Harry."  
  
Harry glared at the paper so intensely that it wouldn't have been surprising if it had burst into flames, but opened it slowly, cursing each crisp fold that Draco had made. He read aloud, "8:30, the Ravenclaw Quiddich locker room. Alone." Harry hung his head. "Well, it's been nice knowing you Fred, but after tonight I am a dead man. If Draco doesn't kill me, I'll finish myself off for him."  
  
Fred sent Harry a sympathetic smile. "Aw, gee Harry, cheer up a bit. You still have three hours of life left."  
  
"I just-" Harry began but was cut off.  
  
"Oi! Fred! Harry!" George called out as he entered the room and approached them. Before George reached them they exchanged a knowing look between them, a silent agreement to talk about it later.  
  
  
Harry made his way down the hall slowly, dragging his feet bitterly as he went towards the locker rooms. It had been really hard loosing Ron and Hermione, but Fred had helped him out by coming up with a pretty decent excuse for Harry needing to not go back with the rest of the group to the Gryffandor tower after dinner. He would have to remember to thank Fred later.  
  
Even though he was moving as slow as he could without moving backwards, Harry felt like he had made it to the locker room all too quickly. He opened the heavy door slowly. He walked into the locker room cautiously. "Draco?" He called out.  
  
As Harry turned the narrow, locker corridor to the main area where most of the lockers were and captains usually gave pep talks, he saw Draco sitting on one of the benches in front of a group of lockers. The lanky blonde haired boy had been examining his wand in his hands, but looked up at Harry's entrance.  
  
"Potter. You're five minutes late." The Slytherin boy noted, his voice rising in dissatisfaction.  
  
"I had a hard time getting away." Harry said quickly to excuse himself. He looked at his shoes, feeling awkward. "So what are the terms of my punishment?" He asked dutifully, eyes still stuck on the floor.  
  
Draco smirked. "For once in his life Potter finds himself the loser, eh? Maybe you shouldn't bet anymore."  
  
"You didn't give me a choice!" Harry spat.  
  
He dismissed this with a wave of his hand. "Mere technicality. But the fact remains. You are under my direction for, how long is it? Remind me, Potter."  
  
Harry's face was marred with venomous poison as he muttered, "four days."  
  
"What was that Potter? I can't hear you when you mumble."  
  
"Four days." Harry said, his face reddening a bit.  
  
Draco smirked. "That's better." He rose from his seat on the bench and began to pace the locker room floor. "You didn't tell the Weasley boy and Granger, did you?" Harry shook his head and Draco continued. "Good. I've been thinking a bit about your sentence. I decided not to have you do the menial housework duties I had in mind originally."  
  
"Gee thanks." Harry said sarcastically.  
  
Draco sent him a warning glare. "Anyway, I have decided not to make you do that when I have house-elves to do those tasks. So..." he drawled dramatically, "I've picked out a different task."  
  
The whole thing made Harry impatient. "Out with it, Draco!"  
  
"You, Harry, are going to have a crush on me for the next four days. You'll write my name on all your folders. You'll carry a picture of me in your wallet. You will follow me around. You'll stare at me in class. You'll agree with whatever I say. You'll stare into my eyes dreamily when you talk to me when other people are around. That kind of stuff. Understand?"  
  
Harry listened to the whole thing as though it was all part of some awful dream. "Never!" He scoffed. "I'd rather die!"  
  
Draco shrugged. "Then I'll tell the head master what I know about-"  
  
"Fine." Harry submitted, eyes narrowing in repulsion.  
  
"There's a good boy." Draco smirked. He reached out and patted Harry on the head patronizingly. Harry pulled back from Draco's touch violently. "No, no. That will not do, Potter. You are under my dictation now, least you have forgotten."  
  
"I haven't forgotten." Harry said through tightly clenched teeth.  
  
Draco smirked again, a look he often wore. "Good. Now give me your arm." Harry hesitated but obliged, holding out his right arm. Draco drew a quill from his robes and took Harry's arm. He proceeded to write 'I love D.M.' on Harry's arm. "Now if someone asks who D. M. is what will you say?" Draco asked.  
  
"Draco Malfoy." Harry recited dryly.  
  
Draco smiled smugly. "Good. Now I'll expect you to write it on your folders by tomorrow morning. You're to show me in breakfast tomorrow. Come to my table, give me a love letter type note, and attempt to flirt with me. I'll check over your folders there. Got it?" Harry nodded, frowning. "And one more thing, Potter."  
  
"What?"  
  
Draco's hand met Harry's cheek hard, and the sound of the hit echoed in the locker room. Harry's hands raised automatically to his smarting cheek.  
  
"Don't even think about disobeying my orders, or you and your sorry little friends will be expelled if I tell the professors the things I know about you guys. And don't think I'd even hesitate to tell them. For the next 92 hours you *belong* to me. You *will* follow my orders." Cold blue eyes looked at Harry critically. "Do you understand?"  
  
Harry burned red from shame. "Yes." He said, casting his eyes to the floor.  
  
Suddenly and unexpectedly Draco leaned into Harry, sending him roughly into the lockers in an aggressive, domineering, vicious kiss. Draco's hands tightened around Harry's wrists, trapping him.  
  
Harry's eyes widened as he felt himself pressed between the cold metal of the lockers and a warm Draco. His head spun as he realized what was happening, he tried to struggle, but Draco held him solidly against the locker.  
  
Draco pulled out after a moment, it hadn't been long but it had seemed like forever to Harry. Draco was smirking and his blue eyes were glittering dangerously. "I'll see you tomorrow, Potter. Don't forget to mark your folders." His smooth voice mocked Harry. With that he turned on his heel and left the locker room, leaving a stunned Harry behind him.  
  
To be continued...  
  
Author's Notes:  
Um... Yeah... Send me feedback puh-lease. Flames or whatever welcome... and this will NOT turn NC17 I'm sure of it, so all you hentais out there; I'm sorry. It's just shounen-ai... This is my first Harry Potter fic... yep. Just thought I'd share that bit of info with y'all. Standard disclaimers apply. And don't sue me because I'm silly! All you'll get is a large jar of Canadian pennies... 


	2. Pt: 2 Interlude

Title: Democracy's Demise: Pt. 2 Author: Copper Bandit Rating: PG13 Warnings: The beginnings of shounen-ai... maybe? I dunno, I can't tell anymore... Disclaim: All standard disclaimers apply... And beware of the horrible second chapter lull syndrom... it happens all the time, but it's usually resolved by Chapter Three... Brief Notes: Arigato to my reviewers! *glomps her life size Draco* They like us! *Draco manages a "mph" sound and squirms out of Copper Bandit's arms* It just made my day when I saw that I had reviews (meaning that people read past the bad summary). I almost choked on my strawberry pocky. Domo, domo, domo! Now I'm just gushing... I'll spare y'all the rest of my babble and get on with the story...  
  
When Harry passed through the portrait into the Gryffandor common room he noticed that Fred was the only one in the room. "Hello Harry." Fred greeted him. "I've was waiting up for you."  
  
"Gee thanks." Harry replied dryly, flopping down the couch opposite Fred's.  
  
"So?" The red-haired boy began casually. "How did it go?"  
  
Harry clenched his fists. "It was..." He shook his head as he found himself at loss to put the less-than-pleasant ordeal into words.  
  
"That bad, eh?" Fred asked. He leaned closer to Harry, looking at his face closely by the light of the roaring fire in the fireplace. "Harry the left side of your face is all red looking. What happened?" The older boy's voice was slightly raised with brotherly concern.  
  
Harry shrugged it off. "He hit me. He's got a lot better arm than you'd think to give him credit for." He looked away from Fred. "I'd like to kill him. I could just do the unforgivable curse and then," he snapped his fingers for emphasis, "he'd be gone like that and I wouldn't have to..." he trailed off, his green eyes dropping to gaze at the stone floor.  
  
"Why?" Fred asked. "What's he got you doing? Being his sex-slave?" he joked.  
  
Harry glared darkly at Fred. "Aren't you just so funny?" His voice positively dripped in sarcasm.  
  
"Sorry," Fred apologized, "what's got you so worked up?"  
  
He pushed his arm into Fred's view. "I'm supposed to be madly in love with him. For four whole days!"  
  
Fred looked at the declaration on Harry's arm critically. "Hey, nice penmanship." His expression changed to one of seriousness as he looked into Harry's green eyes. "Sorry, Harry. Look on the bright side, at least it's only four days. And you only have to pretend."  
  
Harry looked away. "I have to write 'I love Draco' and that kind of stuff all over my folders by breakfast." He said bitterly. "And write Draco a mushy note."  
  
"I'll help you, okay?" Fred volunteered. "Otherwise it will take you awhile."  
  
Harry nodded, grateful for the offer. "Thanks, Fred."  
  
the next day  
  
When the group entered the Great Hall they promptly made their way to their usual seats at the Gryffandor table. Harry ducked his head as he went for his seat, careful to avert his eyes from the Slytherin table. And yet the fact that he knew he'd have to go over there sometime before the end of breakfast haunted his thoughts.  
  
A heated discussion broke out over the subject of brands of crystal balls and Harry realized it was the perfect moment to slip out. He got out of his seat and away from the table while a distracted Hermione was busy lecturing Ron and Dean about price versus quality.  
  
Harry approached the Slytherin table wearily, noticing Draco Malfoy towards the southern end of the table. Thankfully Crabbe and Goyle weren't with him; but two girls that Harry recognized as Pravati and Sariah were sitting across from him, engaged in some sort of conversation. The prince of cold himself was sitting lazily in his chair, flashing occasional white toothed grins at the girls.  
  
"Excuse me." Harry said in an attempt to be cordial, when he was a few feet away from the group. The conversation stopped immediately upon Harry's approach.  
  
Draco Malfoy looked up sharply at Harry, blue eyes icy. "What do you want Potter?"  
  
Harry froze, not having thought out what he was going to do. "I had a question about the Potions homework, I was wondering if I could ask you." He bluffed.  
  
"Me?" Draco asked, pretending to be flattered in a voice that dripped in sarcasm. "Why not your little muggle friend, Gragker is her name?"  
  
"It's Granger, and she was absent yesterday, out sick."  
  
"Whatever." Draco dismissed it with the air of superiority that suggested he should not have to know things that were so far below him. It made Harry's blood boil but he wisely decided to ignore that.  
  
Pravati and Sariah exchanged glances. "What's the question, Harry?" Pravati asked in a less than friendly voice.  
  
Harry shoved his textbook onto Draco's empty place setting. "It's number seventeen, that one there." He fibbed, hoping Draco would forget to look for the "I love DM" emblems that he and Fred had applied last night.  
  
"It's rather simple, Potter." Draco drawled. "The answer is argon, by simple process of elimination." He stared up at Harry mockingly. "I should think it's rather simple."  
  
"Silly me." Harry said, forcing himself to laugh as though he were some love struck schoolgirl. "I don't know what I was thinking. Thank you."  
  
Draco closed Harry's textbook before handing it back to the dark haired boy, his blue eyes lingering on the cover. A faint, cruel smile crossed his face. He approved of Harry's 'handiwork'. He picked up an unbuttered piece of toast off of a serving tray and began to nibble on it.  
  
Harry had watched Draco though the whole thing with hatred and resentment, but he momentarily forgot this as he watched Draco now. As toast slid past flawless pink lips he remembered how those lips had felt yesterday on his own lips...  
  
"Potter." Draco snapped, jerking Harry back into reality. "What are you still here for?"  
  
Shrugging, Harry muttered, "I was just going." He picked up his book, putting down the note he had prepared the night before in its place. He did the whole thing so quickly he sorely doubted the two girls had even noticed. He then turned promptly on his heel and went back to his table, the slightest red tinge appearing on his cheeks.  
  
To be continued... (if I find time)  
  
Author's Notes: I know it sounds ever so tacky; but I'm grateful to those of you that are so supportive and review (even if it is negative I'd be happy to hear a review... I think...). This chapter is like cotton. It's stuffing. It's not anything much in and of itself but it leads places... so I apologize for it being stuffing... I'll try to get three out soon (that is of course if there's an audience... well? Should I spend more time on this? Or not?) I'm still set on this not going lemon S&M or anything like that (it would be kind of hypocritical for me to write an NC17 and then technically not be able to read it, ne?)  
  
More strange Author's notes that don't make sense: This goes out to Lori because she hates Harry/Draco. *glares at Lori-sempai* She's weird, eh? And to Krazy Kuzuko because she's the only person I know off web that likes Hp/Dm... lol, she'll kill me for mentioning her, but she'd kill me more if I mentioned her "boyfriend" ("pretty eyes" as she calls him) Agh! *ducks the flying trout aimed at her* Eeps! 


	3. Pt: 3 Poetry/Bondage

Title: "Democracy's Demise: Pt. 3"  
Author: Copper Bandit  
Warnings: Yeah... we're hitting the shounen-ai in this one... *coughs* Waayy more than in the previous stuff... but it's not lemon/hentai! Still PG13, for shounen-ai type themes, not swearing (I don't swear! Yay!)  
Disclaim: What do you think? Standard of course- they don't belong to me!  
  
  
  
  
In Potions Draco had discreetly leaned over to Harry and whispered, "Same time and place tonight," before going back to stirring his batch of the purple brew the class was working on.  
  
The whole thing left Harry disgusted with himself: mad at how it had taken him a minute to shake off the tingly feeling he had gotten from the feel of the blonde boy's breath on his ear.  
  
  
  
Dinner would have been a delightful affair if it hadn't been for the knot that grew each time Harry's gaze fell on the Slytherin table. The food was delicious, but when George started talking about his own crush on some "Hufflepuff chic" it reminded Harry of his own "crush", the thought of which revolted him so much that even the treacle tart no longer looked appetizing.  
  
  
  
When seven 'o clock finally reared its head Harry was walking down a deserted lower floor hallway. He was headed to the Ravenclaw locker room. He opened the door, a small nagging voice in the back of his mind telling him all the while that he was late. Coming into the main locker room he spotted Draco.  
  
Draco Malfoy was standing by the bench that he had been seated at when Harry entered for their "rendezvous" the night before. Harry's green eyed gaze picked up the sight of a package of simple brown paper tied with twine sitting on the bench. "You're late again, Potter." Draco half drawled, half complained. "Punctuality isn't one of your strengths, is it?"  
  
"And icebreakers certainly aren't your strength." Harry snapped, in quite the foul mood.  
  
The blonde boy shook his head chidingly. "Tsk tsk, Potter. And to think I was going to be kind to you today?"  
  
"Kind? I didn't know you did 'kind'."  
  
Draco Malfoy ignored the sarcasm. "I was quite impressed with your little show today Potter. Didn't know you had it in you." He grinned. "Potter, how old are you?"  
  
"Same age as you. Why does it matter?" Harry asked, frowning at the randomness of it all.  
  
The blonde boy's face displayed his trademark smirk as he looked down at the brown box. "It doesn't matter. But there's a birthday present here for you, from your most recent birthday." Harry's eyes narrowed. "It may be from me, I don't really remember."  
  
Draco's gaze changed suddenly from the box to Harry. "What will you do with it?" The smirk again. "Maybe you'll open it?"  
  
"I don't want to." Harry replied in a low, defiant tone.  
  
"Do it." Draco ordered, the smirk never leaving his face. "I order you to."  
  
Harry tensed, but approached Draco and the box. Dudley had done this to him before once on his birthday; his fat cousin had given him a box wrapped in festive paper only to contain animal poop. Harry expected that since Draco was quite the competent wizard the poop would fly out of the box onto his face.  
  
"Untie the twine." Draco instructed. Harry's fingers moved on their own, not hesitating to undo the twine. Though his fingers displayed no hesitation his mind did, racing along far too fast for Harry to know where it was going.  
  
Draco was watching him with eagle eyes. "Now the paper."  
  
Harry's fingers obeyed, deftly tearing the brown paper away to reveal a black box, similar to a hatbox. "Open it." Harry heard Draco command. His mind screamed in protest but his hands worked on their own, hearing nothing but Draco's orders.  
  
The lid slid off the box in Harry's hands, revealing white tissue paper lining the box. Before waiting for another prompt by Draco, Harry's hands slipped into the tissue paper, feeling for the contents.  
  
Leather. And metal. Harry examined the object in his hands. He'd seen something like this before, where? Now he remembered, it had been last summer when he was cleaning Dudley's room. A pile of magazines, all filled with half dressed muggle people, many with such objects around their necks. "It's, it's a collar." Harry croaked, the message still not fully sinking in.  
  
"And the plaque says?" Draco prompted lazily, as he crossed to stand behind Harry.  
  
Harry turned the leather collar over in his hands. Like a dog's owner's information there was a metal tag hanging off the front. "Draco's boy toy." Harry read aloud, blinking to make sure he had read correctly.  
  
"You know," Draco was right behind him, so close Harry could feel the occasional brush of their robes against each other, "the only thing about your 'performance' today that disappointed me was the note you wrote me."  
  
"What do you mean?" Harry fought hard to keep his voice steady, his mind was spinning at a dizzying speed and he vaguely wondered why he had to worry about his voice not being steady.  
  
"'What kind of acne wash do you use to keep your skin so clear and nice?'" Draco quoted. "Is that the best romantic poetry you can come up with Potter? My heart can't be won with that kind of crap."  
  
Harry bit his tongue, vaguely aware that the tingly feeling that had happened in Potions when Draco's breath was on his ear was returning. His head hurt; too much, too fast.  
  
"Your voice," he continued from behind the dark haired boy, "your voice is like an exotic, intoxicating perfume that fills my lungs." Harry was torn between wanting to gasp in pleasure and gasp in sheer repulsion when he felt a hand slide up to rest on his ribs.  
  
The voice was dark and layered, but still had the classic drawl in it. "I'm the cobble stones you step upon. In your shadow your name escapes my lips as the chorus of birds praise your immortal beauty." Harry's knees weakened and his eyes refused to stay open.  
  
"Not a snow capped vista or majestic view that could be found would be worthy of serving as the backdrop in the portrait that your essence makes." Harry felt the blonde boy's nose resting under the shell of his ear, just barely touching him; but sending electric pulses none the less.  
  
"How's that for poetry?" The velvet voice asked, teasing him by slipping away as Draco backed away from Harry. Harry tried to swallow but found that his throat was strangely dry.  
  
"My letter was fine." Harry muttered, keeping his eyes away from Draco's all-seeing cold blue gaze. He hated Draco. Hated him. He tried to remind his brain as to why. The boy bothered his friends, tried to get him suspended/serve detention more times than he could remember, and was his sworn enemy... but those reasons and the many others weren't coming to mind.  
  
Harry couldn't see Draco's expression, but he was sure that it was another smirk. "Of course it was." He moved away from Harry. "I expect you'll wear that collar. You can say you had it specially made for yourself."  
  
That reminded Harry... "Where did you get that, Malfoy? Isn't it a muggle thing?" He asked, managing to regain his composure.  
  
Draco avoided Harry's eyes as he crossed back over and reached into the box, pulling out a leather... whip?! He twirled the apparatus in his hands, still not meeting Harry's gaze.  
  
"You honestly don't know where muggles got their sick little bondage ideas from?" His eyes suddenly lifted to meet Harry's, burning a brilliant piercing blue. "Sorceresses and the demons. They started it. The demons may be now extinct and the sorceresses merged with witches. But that particular art form lives on in the magical community. It's not one of those vile muggle things. It's from our world."  
  
Draco stepped quickly toward Harry. "Want to test these out?" He leered. Harry's green eyes widened at Draco's words and the dark haired boy reacted to Draco's advance by stepping back (away) quite quickly. Harry's legs caught on the bench and his momentum sent him sprawling across the cold tiled floor.  
  
Harry didn't black out, though his head hurt terribly. He saw Draco, who was hovering over him swoop down. The blonde boy reached out one of his hands to steady himself as he squatted, leaning over Harry. Draco's hand rested on a spot that just happened to be Harry's lower thigh.  
  
The blue eyes of the Slytherin student mirrored the smirk that he wore. "Don't worry Potter. I was just kidding. I would never actually waste my time like that on you." Malfoy stood up, rising high above Harry. "See you tomorrow Potter." Draco stepped over Harry's fallen form and proceeded out of the locker room without another word.  
  
The-Boy-Who-Lived sat up slowly, his head raced from the activities of the last fifteen minutes. Draco Malfoy. Would he ever be able to figure out that mystery? Draco got under his skin; he hated him, but was aware of a new feeling towards Draco at the same time. A strange new feeling.  
  
Harry wished the old days were back; the days when he merely hated Draco. He sighed. Three more days left...  
  
To be continued...  
  
  
  
Author's Notes  
Um... I've had this written since like Friday but I didn't post it b/c I went to a Model United Nations conference on Friday and Saturday. My school won Best Delegation!!! Yay!  
Keep the reviews coming! This is way more than I've gotten on my other works (my poor little fan-ignored Weiss Kreuz oneshot... *sighs* I don't blame them...) Hm... I think I know where I'm going with this, but good ideas (this isn't a deathfic!) can be directed to AOL instant message screen name: Copperbandit0, I warn y'all that I'm usually only on at weird times... like during school hours.  
Life is silly...  
And um, Krazy Kazuko? I don't really give a darn about how I spell your name... 


	4. Pt: 4 Coming Out

Title: "Democracy's Demise: Pt. 4"  
Author: Copper Bandit  
Warnings: not much in this one... um, magical squirrels because I'm random. Even numbered chapters are stupid.  
Disclaim: Gee, let's think about this one *really* hard- Nothing about the books belongs to me...  
Author's Notes: I apologize for this taking so long to get out! But I sprained my right wrist so typing has been very slow going...  
  
  
A hand shook his shoulder roughly and Harry awoke groggily. His eyes blinked open slowly to the sight of blurry shapes. "Where are my glasses?" He asked while yawning, his words slurring as though he'd spent the past night drinking.  
  
"Oh, here there are Harry." A familiar voice spoke, pressing the object into Harry's hand.  
  
"Which one are you?" Harry asked sleepily. "George or Fred?"  
  
"Gosh Harry, I've known you for how many years?" The Twin said with a laugh. Harry slipped his glasses on and the room unfogged. It was Fred that was standing over him.  
  
Harry yawned again. "Sorry. What time is it?"  
  
"About eight o'clock."  
  
"Snipes!"  
  
Fred shrugged. "Yeah, I thought you'd want to get up. What are you doing in here?"  
  
Harry looked around. No wonder his bed didn't feel as comfortable as it usually did. He was lying on one of the couches in the Gryffandor common room. "I dunno. I remember coming in here after my evening meeting with Mr. Congeniality and wanting to sit down on the couch and rest a minute. I guess I must've drifted off."  
  
"Oh. Must've been bad, eh?"  
  
"Bad?" Harry shrugged. "If you like understatements sure. I don't know... something about Malfoy drives me crazy!" He shrugged.  
  
Fred nodded. "That jerk. Poor Harry. It was really noble of you to agree to that bet-"  
  
"It's not like I had a choice." Harry said, making a face.  
  
"And then not telling Hermione and Ron."  
  
Harry looked away from the redhead. "They would've felt guilty about the whole thing and I'd really rather have them spared."  
  
"Gee Harry that's sweet."  
  
Harry rolled his eyes. "And I can't believe you even know about it. I'd really rather no one knew."  
  
"But it feels nice having someone to confide in, doesn't it?" Fred asked him.  
  
"Yeah." He had to admit it was nice to be able to vent. "I'm starved, I'll change really quick then let's go to breakfast."  
  
"Sounds good." Fred agreed. As Harry got off the couch he tripped over something on the floor. "What's that?"  
  
Harry recognized it at once. "Um, nothing." He said, quickly stooping to grab the object.  
  
But Harry wasn't fast enough. Fred snatched the object out of Harry's protesting hands. The redhead's eyes skimmed over the leather object, looking critically at the tag. "My, my Harry..." Fred mused. "Taking your role a little to seriously?"  
  
Harry grabbed the collar back. "Oh shut up. I'll have you know that I'm hating every second of this torture." The words flew out of Harry's mouth as he snapped the collar around his neck. "But unfortunately I have to."  
  
Fred smirked. "Gee Harry, you look grand. Simply marvy."  
  
"For your own sake that better have been sarcastic." Harry said, stomping off to his dorm to change.  
  
Fred had waited around for Harry and the two of them went down to the great hall together. It was halfway through breakfast before Ron noticed Harry's new jewelry...  
  
"Harry?" Ron asked slowly.  
  
"Hm?" Harry replied while eating some particularly good bacon.  
  
"What is that?"  
  
"What?"  
  
"That thing around your neck."  
  
"Oh..." Harry trailed off uncomfortably, deciding now was a good time to stuff his face with whole grained wheat rolls.  
  
Hermione was also looking closely at Harry now. "Yeah Harry, what is that? It looks like-"  
  
"A collar." George piped. Harry threw the red-haired seventh year a dark glare.  
  
Ginny nodded. "What does the tag say?"  
  
Dean was sitting next to Harry, and leaned close to Harry before the dark haired boy could protest. "Draco's boy toy?" He began to laugh.  
  
"D.M. isn't Dinah Murray?" Ron shrieked. "It's, it's Draco Malfoy?!"  
  
"Gosh Ron, shut up a little before the Slytherins start to stare over here." Hermione said calmly. "Though I understand your surprise. Harry, I had no idea."  
  
Harry was a little slow. "No idea of what?"  
  
"That you like Draco." Hermione sighed impatiently.  
  
"Oh... That." Harry's cheeks flushed and he took the opportunity to shove some more food into his mouth. The food would have been delicious had he taken the time to chew.  
  
George patted Harry on the back, causing the Boy-who-lived to almost choke on his food. "You should have come out to us sooner Harry! We'd accept you no matter what, you should know that."  
  
Harry's flushed cheeks reddened some more. "Shut up" were the only words that came to mind. He stared hard at his silverware. What had he done to merit such pain? "I'm not a queer." He muttered, trying to remind himself.  
  
"You're not queer but you like Draco Malfoy?" George teased.  
  
"Exactly." Harry said darkly before inhaling more food.  
  
"He is pretty good looking when you think about it." Ginny said quietly, trying to reassure Harry that his friends supported him. "I think you guys will look cute together."  
  
And to think Harry was just starting to like Ginny as more than his little sister's friend... well that was gone. Any girl who thought that he would look "cute" with *Draco* *Malfoy* was NOT a girl he wanted to take to the next ball... he decided against giving Ginny the glare he wanted to give her and sent the glare into his bowl of porridge instead.  
  
  
  
Not too long after breakfast it was suddenly time for Care of Magical Creatures class. Usually Harry looked forward to Care of Magical Creatures (as long as it wasn't going to be one of the dreaded Blast Ended Skewt lessons). But today Harry wasn't particularly excited about Care of Magical creatures.  
  
Why?  
  
The answer was as simple as looking towards the large group of Slytherins that could be seen approaching Hagrid's cottage. Towards the back of the pack was a certain boy with pale blonde hair and ashen blue eyes standing beside two large boys (who could only be described as goons).  
  
Draco Malfoy. Harry's hand automatically raised to touch the collar around his neck resentfully.  
  
"Hey will a few of you come over here!" Hagrid called to the Gryffadors that were already there. "Give me a hand with this will you?" The redhead asked while trying to hold onto the leashes of several squirrel type creatures while attempting to open a bag of food.  
  
Harry nodded. "Sure. What are those things Hagrid?" He asked as he, Ron, and Hermione approached the giant man.  
  
"They're flirrels." Hagrid explained. "They're like squirrels sort of. But they're magical." Harry looked down at the four leashed creatures that where straining against Hagrid's hold. They didn't look too dangerous.  
  
Harry and Hermione each took the leash of one of the flirrels from Hagrid, Ron took two. The more he looked at them the more they looked like ordinary squirrels. But they were cute, Harry decided as he began to pet the hyperactive flirrel on the head gently.  
  
"Ow!" Harry yelped suddenly, pulling his hand away from the flirrel quickly. "It bit me! Hard!"  
  
"Yeah, you've got to watch out for their teeth." Hagrid advised. "They pack a mean bite for 'lil animals." He took the flirrel that had bitten Harry back. "Harry's gone 'an shown us to keep our hands away from their faces. They've got sharp pointy teeth ye'll want to keep away from." Hagrid instructed the class.  
  
The last of the Slytherins had made their way to the clearing. When Harry's green eyes lifted from the red bite marks they met the laughing blue eyes of Draco Malfoy. Draco was laughing at him. Harry looked away quickly and instead focused on Hagrid's lesson about the care and keeping of flirrels.  
  
  
  
When class was over Harry was walking toward the castle beside Hermione and Ron. Draco, Crabbe, and Goyle made a point of shoving rudely past their group. Draco shoved past Harry quite roughly, careful to speak quite quietly so that no one but Harry heard him. "You know where and when." The blonde haired boy said coolly, his pale blue eyes glittering.  
  
As the Slytherins passed Harry couldn't help but notice how the sunlight caught on Draco's blonde hair, making it glow. The bright rays danced on the blonde's fair locks in a way that reminded Harry of poetry.  
  
  
  
Author's Notes:  
Don't yell at me because this is crappy! It's not my fault! It's the Advil I'm taking because of my wrist! It makes me drowsy and dulls my mind and reduces my mental capacity/abilities.  
Krazy Kazuko: *wanders in* I don't get it... How's that any different from how you usually are?  
*Copper bandit whaps Krazy Kazuko with a large river trout and knocks her out cold* SHUT UP! Now where were we? Oh yeah- I still haven't gone out to see the movie yet (pathetic, I know)... I'll get around to it after midterms maybe. (*laughs* those are going to be like, in January!)  
Thank you so much to those who reviewed! One of them especially made me laugh out loud, it was from an anonymous person named Sarah, I want to tell her that this most likely isn't going to be "some sad, twisted fic with Harry crawling after Draco in the rain with tears streaming down his face." But who knows...maybe I'll get really evil and KILL THEM ALL!!! ...Or not...  
(If any of my friends from school are reading this fic please ignore it)  
Continue to review please! And sorry if you hate this chapter and think that it's the devil and you want to kill it and smash the monitor to pieces and you want to send me endless amounts of flames because of how much this segment totally bites and you don't like squirrels either and you hate me for this. Like I said: It's not my fault, it's the Advil.  
Hopefully next chapter I'll be off the Advil so it should be better (maybe?). 


	5. Pt: 5 Lawlessness

Title: "Democracy's Demise: Pt. 5"  
  
Author: Copper Bandit  
  
Warnings: Yeah... silly? Actually NO, it's not really- I just like that word... But seriously: slight "slash" hints? (I prefer to call it shounen-ai, if you please), Collin Creevy bashing, and random miscelania  
  
Rating: Still a pretty innocent PG13...  
  
Disclaim: It's not mine. Or so I think...  
  
Author's Notes: IMPORTANT: Keep in mind I wrote Chapters 5 and 6 at one time originally as one chapter but it got long so I split it into two. That's why it may flow oddly... okies? Questions/comments/flames/random trivia to: Copper_bandit@yahoo.com  
  
  
Dinner started out a most enjoyable affair, so much that Harry managed to forget his current "sorrows" during a delicious dinner as a particularly amusing conversation came up about the best possible way for Professor Snape to kick the can.  
  
"Giant man eating flirrels." Ron said decidedly, not bothering to chew his casserole but rather displaying it while he talked with a mouth full of food. "That's got to be the only way to go."  
  
Hermione shook her head. "I think Devil's Snare would be more frightening."  
  
"Not if they were rabid flirrels." Ron added, pouting a bit toward the end of his statement upon realizing that everyone's attention was on his older brother.  
  
"Nah, Snape could avoid Devil's Snare easily, I'll give him that much cedit." George said, his head resting in his hand as he thought. "I've got it. He should fall into a batch of, Fred what's that stuff called?"  
  
Fred shrugged from across the table. "What stuff?"  
  
"That potion stuff that when it comes into contact with flesh it makes you break out in boils and hives and your skin turns sickly gray. And then you writhe around on the floor as it seeps through your skin to your arteries and as soon as its in your bloodstream you get horrible pains and chills all over and then for the grand finale fluid pours out from all your pores."  
  
"Oh... that. That stuff was Coleman's Serum I think." Fred replied lazily.  
  
George sat back in his chair happily. "Yeah. That stuff. I think it would be poetic justice, ya know?" He glanced at his wide-eyed younger friends. "What? It is ironic."  
  
Ginny continued to stare at her brother. "George that's sick. Now I'm not hungry anymore." She said disgustedly as she pushed her half-full plate away from herself.  
  
"Snape falling into a cauldron of potion. That's not that ironic." Ron chuckled to himself a bit suddenly. "What's ironic is Harry having a crush on Draco Mal-"  
  
Harry felt his cheeks suddenly flush. "Ron! Can it!" He snapped quickly.  
  
Ron gave his friend a sideways look. "Alright then Harry. Sorry, but now that I'm sort of used to it-" he paused to make a face- "or at least as used to guys liking guys as I can get, I think it's terribly funny."  
  
"Ronald." Fred said in an adult like tone as he smacked his little brother upside the head lightly. "Since when have the feelings of your friends become 'terribly funny'? Honestly Ron, if mother was here..." He trailed off dangerously as he began to butter a biscuit. Fred's slight smile gave him away though.  
  
Harry glared at them all. And to think he had actually been having a good dinner and wasn't brooding about that for once.  
  
Without warning the wind was almost knocked out of Harry as something seemed to crash into him from behind with startling velocity. "What?" Harry let out with surprise.  
  
It was Collin Creevy. Harry didn't have time to catch his breath before Collin's arms were flung about him, one around Harry's shoulders, the other squeezing him by wrapping around his back. "Haarrryyy!" Collin sobbed as he buried his face into Harry's robes.  
  
"Collin?" A flustered, confused Harry asked. "Did something happen to your Mum or Father?" He asked uncertainly.  
  
"No, it's WORSE!" Collin said, lifting his face to look up at Harry with teary eyes. "They're saying that the great Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, likes Draco Malfoy!"  
  
Harry's heart almost stopped beating. "Who's they?" He heard himself asking the sobbing Collin.  
  
"Everyone!" Collin answered, looking up at Harry questioningly. "Well?" He asked Harry. When Harry (who was still deep in shock) said nothing Collin burst into a fresh wave of tears. "It's true then Harry?! Oh Harry how could you?!"  
  
"Collin please," Harry said quietly, quite aware at the number of weird stares that were coming their way, "will you stop crying? You're getting my robes wet."  
  
Collin sobbed loudly again. "Harry, you can't like him! You can't! He's a Slytherin! You should like a Gryffandor!" The crying boy proclaimed.  
  
Harry tried to push Collin off himself. "Collin people are staring." He tried pushing the younger boy away more firmly but again it was to no use. "Collin." He said, a note of warning in his voice. "Collin stop it."  
  
"What's going on here?" A familiar drawling voice asked from not so far away.  
  
If Harry's heart hadn't stopped beating before it had certainly stopped now. He'd have to be in a coma not to recognize that voice. It was a voice had on many occasions infuriated him, but he had more recently discovered the decidedly seductive side of the voice that could recite poetry in a way that he found comparable to the dancing of veelas or the songs of the mythical sirens.  
  
Collin glared at the blonde boy who had just approached the table with his two goons in tow. "It's not fair!" He yelled. "You're not good enough for Harry!"  
  
"What's this I hear about Potter?" Draco asked, lifting his hand to his ear dramatically. "Care to share?" Goyle and Crabbe laughed stupidly for effect.  
  
Turning away from sending Draco less than frightening glares Collin looked back up at Harry. "Oh Harry, no! It can't be true!"  
  
Harry gritted his teeth and said nothing as an even deeper shade of red spread across his face. "Well?" Draco prompted. "Is there something you should be telling that sniveling brat?"  
  
The dark haired boy looked down at the younger boy who was still clamped onto his waist. He was aware of the crowd that was looking on now, his friends among the onlookers. "Um, Collin." Harry began, his throat strangely dry.  
  
"Um, in answer to your question..." Harry looked over at Ron, Hermione, and the others, who weren't being all that great of friends right now (Well they could just go ahead and forget getting Christmas gifts from him this year). "Collin." He said as resolutely as he could muster. "I um, kinda like Draco Malfoy. Yes. It's true."  
  
Collin's jaw came as close to scraping the floor as humanly possible. The largest tears Harry had ever seen were welling up in the young boy's eyes. "No..." He whimpered softly, but gaining more volume. "I love Harry!"  
  
"Love?" Draco laughed cruelly. "Seems more like a sick obsession than love, but who am I to judge?" He leaned in closer towards the sobbing Collin. "But you know what?" The blonde sneered. "You can go ahead and have Potter for all I care."  
  
With that the infamous Draco Malfoy strode away from the scene with his two henchmen in tow. Harry managed to finally shove Collin off himself. Whatever patience he had before was gone, he was quite happy to see the still sniffling boy being led away by a few of his little fourth year friends.  
  
Harry Potter looked at his friends. "What were you doing that whole time?" He snapped. "Enjoying the show? Some friends you are." He said thickly as he snatched up his bag and proceeded to leave the Great Hall, not even listening to Hermione as she called out for him to wait and come back.  
  
  
Author's Notes:  
Now that I look at this I realize that this chapter (at the very least) is crap. It's udder, complete crap. I don't even like using that word! But heck, it is! Oh PLEASE PLEASE don't judge the future of my work on this chapter! Like I said in the disclaimer; parts 5 and 6 were originally one but I split them in two... so go on to part 6! It's actually better than this chapter (cause this is like a mad lame "filler" chapter). So PLEASE go onward! Yes that's right! Go on and stop reading the author's notes and read the next chapter. Then review. Because I really *really* appreciate reviews. I think all authors appreciate receiving constructive/humorous reviews. But me especially! Thank you to all who've reviewed in the past! Please keep it up!  
"People are cool, but I like pizza." 


	6. Pt: 6 Hunting

Title: "Democracy's Demise: Pt. 6"  
  
Author: Copper Bandit  
  
Warnings: gee, um, if the first chapter locker room scene wasn't your thing then this lies about the same level so you should turn around and run away. And don't beat me up because it's decidedly shorter...  
  
Rating: Still a lovely PG13...  
  
Disclaim: My wrist still bugs me when I type! And of course the book/characters 'ain't mine (though I asked my parents to buy me Tom Felton for Christmas... they said I'd have to ask Santa...)  
  
Author's Notes: I'm sure we all know by now...but I sprained my right wrist and it still is a bit painful to type/write/draw (I've been going crazy at not being able to do my arts!) so that's why this is so slow in coming. Sorry!  
  
  
  
All he really wanted right now was to go back to his dorm in Gryffandor tower and sink into his large bed and just brood and pity himself, but he knew where he was supposed to be going.  
  
When he sulked into Ravenclaw's Quidditch locker room he was surprised to see not see the blonde haired boy (who was the cause for so many of his current troubles) not already in the basement room. Harry glanced at his watch. It figured, he was almost twenty minutes early. But he didn't really feel like going somewhere else to wait out his time, so he sank down with his back against the cool metal of a wall of lockers to wait.  
  
Ten minutes later he heard the door creak open and Draco Malfoy rounded the corner into the locker room a moment later. The Slytherin looked slightly surprised. "Well, look who's on time for once. Early actually." Draco smirked. "Does that merit a treat do you think?"  
  
"Barely 48 hours left." Harry said, avoiding Draco's cold blue eyes.  
  
Malfoy laughed, it was a cold laugh like his eyes. "Cut right to the chase don't you?" The blonde haired boy paused momentarily, as though contemplating his words. "I was most pleased with your little showing this evening. You're really getting settled into your role, huh?"  
  
If Harry hadn't felt so jaded he would have punched Draco right there and then. But he couldn't seem to rally the strength; he was feeling much too apathetic towards the entire world to smack even his worst enemy at the moment. He looked away from the other boy and stared into the tiled floor.  
  
But Harry quickly found it hard to ignore Draco when the said boy was suddenly crouching next to him and was leaning only mere inches from his face. "You know Potter," Malfoy began, his voice laden with sarcastic sadness, "It's not fun to annoy you if it doesn't get a reaction out of you."  
  
"Gee I'm sorry." Harry said dully.  
  
Malfoy shoved the sitting Harry into the wall with surprising speed, kissing him roughly, replaying the scene from two nights before.  
  
As hands tightened around Harry's wrists he contemplated not struggling at all. Yeah, the kiss was one of bruising force, designed to violate and infuriate him. But strangely, he felt the mental walls he had established melt as he couldn't deny that he found himself enjoying this in a sick sort of way that he hated but cold not push away any more.  
  
But Harry knew better than to let that happen; that was exactly what Malfoy wanted him to do. He might be sexually attracted to the guy but there was no way that he was going to let Draco Malfoy control him like this. He shoved the blonde boy away from him furiously, throwing a few wild punches as Draco was pushed back.  
  
Draco swore loudly as he held a hand to his face, his eyes burning as he looked at Harry with hatred. "The slave never strikes his master." He said in a low dangerous voice.  
  
With that Draco attacked Harry, lunging at him and sending the dark haired boy sprawling across the floor. Draco was upon him at once, before Harry could move Draco was above him and he felt strong hands clamp around his throat.  
  
Harry gasped as Draco attempted to strangle him. "St...op, stop... it..." Harry managed to croak.  
  
Draco's eyes narrowed as he untightened his hold on the other boy's throat, but did not remove his hands. "Oh that's right, wouldn't want to damage my prize." He said, spitting on the word 'prize'.  
  
Rising, Draco moved off of Harry and the dark haired boy sat up, coughing hard. Draco crossed to the standing mirrors on the other side of the locker room, gazing at his reflection.  
  
"You know I would have killed you if I had thought that it would leave a scar." Draco said with surprising lightness as he looked at the thin red line running across two inches of his pale cheek.  
  
Draco turned around to look at Harry mockingly. "Though I did find your pathetic struggling to be quite amusing."  
  
"Go to hell." Harry was reduced to whispering, as the pain and raw feeling in his throat was too great to manage a higher volume. He looked away from Draco, but was unable to shake the image of the other boy that was haunting him.  
  
"I suppose you'd like to know tomorrow's duties?" Draco drawled calmly as he began to pace slightly about the locker room. He took Harry's silence to as an invitation and continued. "I was thinking along the lines of another note, maybe better poetry this time?"  
  
Harry's frown deepened. He'd have to get someone to help him, he was a lousy poet...  
  
"And how about staring at me in Potions?" Draco continued with a smirk. "I know I make a pretty picture, eh Potter?" The dark haired boy glared at Draco and remained silent. Draco smirked again. "Oh come on Potter, honor me with a reply." The blonde teased.  
  
"If I must." Harry said dutifully, rolling his eyes.  
  
Another smirk. "I feel so loved now." The smooth voice dripped with liquid sarcasm. Like a cat pouncing on prey, Draco quickly drew close to Harry, his face a few inches away. "Do you love me?" The Slytherin asked with the same sly, mocking sarcasm.  
  
"Yes." Harry said flatly, reminding himself mentally that he only "loved" the smirking blonde boy out of duty.  
  
Draco's sneer as he turned and walked away from Harry showed that he was satisfied with Harry's reply. "You're pathetic Potter." He mused with a superior look. "You can leave now, fag."  
  
Harry opened his mouth to retort, but decided against it and collected himself off of the floor and stalked out of the Ravenclaw locker room, wanting nothing more at the moment than to get back to his dorm room and fall asleep.  
  
  
  
Harry had walked sullenly through the Gryffandor common room in a huff, ignoring his friends and making his way straight to the fifth year dorms.  
  
The dark haired boy threw open the heavy bedcurtains and flopped onto the bed in a very undignified heap. A sharp pain in his side greeted him as he settled on the bed. It felt like he was laying on top of something that was definitely not a pillow.  
  
Harry reached the comforter and sheets lazily, digging around until his hands hit a hard object. He sat up a little from on top of the bed to pull the object out from between sheets.  
  
His hands emerged with a large book as their burden. Harry turned the leather bound book over in his hands. On the front in golden script it read:  
"Famous Bisexual, Gay, & Lesbian  
Wizards and Witches Through History"  
  
Harry groaned audibly. No need to think about who left this for him to find... Trust Hermione to think of leaving a book to express her apology. And some book at that. Disgusted, mainly with himself, Harry threw the book to the floor and sunk back onto the bed.  
  
The boy who lived closed his eyes and decided he needed to think about a neutral topic. Like his broomstick. Harry squeezed his eyes shut tighter as he replayed his favorite Quidditch moves in his mind.  
  
But every time he pictured himself using his moves against a Quidditch opponent it was always against a certain Slytherin (and it wasn't Marcus Flint!)... A boy with hair that caught the light of the sun, and the warm rays danced across his blonde hair...  
  
Harry quickly switched from Quidditch to thinking about what he wanted to buy next at Hogsmede. But a moment later he switched gears to thinking about cauldrons because a certain theme began haunting his Hogsmede thoughts too... From cauldrons he had to switch to thinking about Gringots bank a minute later for similar reasons.  
  
The whole situation really made Harry mad because each time the other boy popped up into his thoughts his blood began to boil with his dislike for the boy. And yet he really could not stop seeing the sun rays dancing across the blonde hair... pure, undeniable poetry...  
  
Eventually Harry had to resort to clearing his mind and thinking of nothing, and he fell into an uneasy slumber.  
  
  
Author's Notes! 


	7. Of Poetry and Potions

Title: "Democracy's Demise: Pt. 7"  
Author: Copper Bandit  
Warnings: like that GreenDay song! Sorry, I just had to slip that in... Seriously: Bad attempt at a piece of poetry is tucked in here...  
Disclaim: Um, stuff? Yeah... You know the drill...  
Author's Notes: *ducks the evil fellow-students (they know who they are!)'s daily promptings to "hurry up and write more"* Sheesh! A girl's gotta have a life off of fanfiction.net! *blinks* Agh! Listen to what a hypocrite I've become! Okay, okay: so I don't have a life off of ff.n... but I've got writers blues (and a minor case of writer's block). Help me cure that and review me, eh?  
  
  
  
  
It was definitely an uneasy night's rest. Harry found himself suddenly awake, though it was *not* daylight out yet, and he couldn't place why he was suddenly so awake. He hadn't been having a nightmare that he could remember, but just like when he was a little boy- there was no way he'd be able to get back to sleep.  
  
His feet had a will of their own as the dragged him out of the bed and through the quiet fifth year boys' dorm room where only the sound of soft breathing could be heard. Harry found himself wandering into the Gryffindor common room, where a fire still burned brightly in the fireplace.  
  
The boy sank into a comfortable wingback chair and cast his brilliant green gaze into the brightly burning fire. A jumbled pile of thoughts filtered slowly across the youth's mind. What was it he had to do today? Oh yeah, give Malfoy a love note ("Maybe better poetry this time?" He could still hear the Slytherin drawl), stare at Malfoy during potions, and... what was the last thing again? Oh yeah, basically be madly in love with Draco Malfoy.  
  
Harry sighed. His life wasn't looking too nice right now. He had been completely rude to his friends at dinner the night before and wouldn't blame them if they were really mad at him, he had decided that he defiantly did not like Ginny as anything more than a friend, and he currently had to lead everyone to believe that he was in "love" with a Slytherin. And of all the Slytherins it just had to be Draco Malfoy. Even being in love with Millicent would be better than that (though Draco was better looking...)  
  
Wait, had he just admitted to himself that Malfoy was better looking? That kind of comment was halfway to saying that Malfoy was good looking! He sighed again, this time huffily. Draco Malfoy's captivating blue-gray eyes, perfectly formed fingers, the flawless creamy skin, and his soft pale golden locks totally made him *NOT* good looking!  
  
Harry sighed a third time, exasperatedly. Who was he trying to fool? Draco was gorgeous. He felt slightly better at admitting that to himself- like a weight had been lifted off his chest. He felt slightly justified now for how lately he had been feeling the (weensieist bit) attracted to the blonde boy.  
  
Wait! Admitting a Malfoy was hot was one thing; but admitting that he had felt *any amount* of attraction toward that Malfoy was another! Harry noticed a sheet of clean parchment and a quill on the table suddenly. That reminded him...  
  
The Boy-Who-Lived grabbed the quill and parchment and began to carefully write in neat script...  
  
  
Awhile later...  
  
  
"Harry." A voice startled the dark haired boy, who looked up at the approaching figure. "What are you doing up?" The red haired boy asked his younger friend.  
  
"Oh, good morning Fred." Harry replied, yawning a little. "I couldn't get to sleep last night."  
  
Fred raised an eyebrow. "So you've been up for awhile?" Harry nodded. "How long? Gosh Harry, you should get more sleep, it's not healthy for a growing boy-"  
  
"You're sounding like your mum." Harry said, managing a small but cheery laugh.  
  
Fred shrugged. "Yeah, whatever. But I wanted to apologize if I made you mad last night. We're all sorry, actually. We felt pretty bad after you stormed out of there."  
  
Harry shook his head. "No, it was my fault. I shouldn't have gotten so upset, but I've just been a bit touchy lately."  
  
"Understandable." Fred said with a nod. "So, what are you working on?" He said, gesturing to the parchment in the other boy's hands.  
  
Harry smirked unexpectedly. "Um, if I said poetry would you believe me?"  
  
The twin looked at him slowly for a moment. "I wouldn't put it past you. Want to give it a go on an audience?" He asked, pointing to himself with a kind smile.  
  
A blush spread across Harry's face as he began to babble. "It's really stupid though. I had to write it for Draco so it's to him, he told me to. Part of the stupid, absolutely horrid, lame, awful deal that-"  
  
"I get your point!" Fred finished for him quickly. "Just let me hear it."  
  
Harry bit his lip. "Okay then, but I warned you. Why don't you sit down?" He asked, gesturing to the chair opposite him. The redhead did as was suggested. When Fred was comfortably seated Harry began to read slowly.  
  
"Dancing across amber gold fields,  
Silver dewdrops forming at each footprint.  
The stars trailing behind to form a banner  
That heralds your arrival.  
The mists of Avalon reflect in your eyes, paired with  
Alabaster skin not common to mortal realms.  
Strokes of dancing sunbeams,  
Your hair moves lightly in a soft breeze,  
And the wind whispers  
Words artificially sweetened.  
Like my love for you,  
Superficial and so unreal.  
And yet-  
While I watch you standing  
Rose colored glass melts away  
And that which I see is  
Far away-  
But like the painting in a gallery,  
Is admired."  
  
"Well?" Harry looked up nervously. "Yeah, I know it's not that great and all but I've never really written anything before and-" Harry gushed.  
  
Fred held up a soft hand. "Shh, Harry." He urged. "That was just fine."  
  
"Really?"  
  
The youth nodded and leaned closer in his chair, taking a gentle hand under Harry's chin to lift his head higher. "Yes Harry." He smiled a good-natured kind of way, the spitting image of what an older brother was supposed to be. "It was good."  
  
Harry beamed. "Thanks Fred."  
  
Fred smiled. "Sure, anytime Harry. What are friends for?" He looked over toward the direction of the dorm rooms. "Speaking of friends... We apologized to each other for last night, so I think you should apologize to Hermione. She was beating herself up for it last night after you stormed off. I believe she left a peace offering-"  
  
Harry rolled his eyes. "Um, yeah. I found that. 'Gay, Lesbian and Bisexual Wizards Throughout History?' Is that the one you were talking about?"  
  
The redhead raised an eyebrow. "Oh my, I thought she had left you Chocolate Frogs or some other candies of sorts." He smirked. "Whatever, that's an interesting enough book."  
  
"You've read it?" Harry asked a bit taken back.  
  
The boy shrugged. "Well, what can I say? I'm not narrow minded."  
  
Harry decided to use change the subject. "What time is it?"  
  
"Early." Fred shrugged. "We've got a good amount of time till breakfast on our hands, so how about we play a round or two of wizard's chess. What do you say?" He asked cheerfully.  
  
Harry grinned. "You're on!"  
  
  
Later  
  
  
Mission? Apologize to your friends for being a bit too mean the prior night. Result? Mission accomplished. Harry's pals were pretty sympathetic after he explained that he was feeling grouchy lately ("Being in love with a creep would have that effect." Ron had said rather darkly before a smack from his brother George made him apologize to Harry).  
  
So things were back to normal with Harry and his friends, except for how Ginny flashed the "Darn!-I-lost-him-for-good" sad kind of look at Harry a few times. It was the same look (except to a much further extent) that had been seen on Collin Creevy in the halls lately.  
  
  
And then came Potions class...  
  
  
Most of the Gryffindors were already in the room when the Slytherins came filing in less than quietly. The lesson started as usual, the subject today was simple cold curing serums. After pairing off in the usual partnerships they began brewing the potions, the first of which was quite easy since it was a review potion. "Excuse me." Professor McGonagall's sharp voice suddenly filled the dungeon classroom. "Can I speak to you for a minute outside for a moment Professor Snape?" The head of Gryffindor house asked politely, but with firmness.  
  
Snape nodded to Professor McGonagall and then glared at his class. "I don't want any difficulties when I'm out. If there is any problems I will not hesitate to deduct points from your houses." He said in his usual cold style, giving a final warning glare before stepping out of the classroom to talk with Professor McGonagall.  
  
Automatically the Gryffindor students pretty much stopped working and gave sighs of relief at the opportunity to have a break from Professor Snape. Most of the Slytherin students stopped working as well and were talking quietly among themselves.  
  
Ron began to babble about some new Quidditch player from the Yukon that was the next big thing in North America. Harry, for once, found it boring and let his attention drift off.  
  
"What is it, Potter?" A sharp voice asked him, yanking him back into attention. Draco Malfoy.  
  
Harry shrugged innocently. "Excuse me? Was I doing something wrong?"  
  
The blonde glared. "You were staring." He accused.  
  
"No I wasn't." Harry said, denying it bluntly.  
  
Draco scoffed. "Yes, you were Potter. I know what staring looks like."  
  
"Well..." Harry drew a blank.  
  
Hermione looked up from her reading. "Is that a crime, Malfoy?" She asked for Harry, who threw her a grateful smile.  
  
The Slytherin glared some more. "No, but I'd rather you kept your beady little eyes to yourself, Potter." Crabbe and Goyle chortled stupidly, missing the fact that Draco's retort wasn't even funny.  
  
"Whatever." Harry dismissed it, turning back toward Ron. "Sorry about that. What were you saying?" He asked his redheaded friend. "Something about Club Canada?"  
  
"Never mind. It's pretty obvious that you were getting a bit bored with Quidditch talk." Ron said, a bit of disappointment in his voice. He shook his head. "And to think you were being distracted over that git."  
  
Harry reddened a bit. "Shut up Ron."  
  
Ron sighed again. "Look Harry," he said, lowering his voice to a whisper, "I'd better tell you this now. I've thought it over and although the idea has got me totally repulsed, no offense, I have decided that since you're my friend and I don't want to loose you I'll accept you."  
  
Harry began to redden, "Ron-" he warned, but it was no use; Ron was on a roll.  
  
He shuddered. "But I want you to know that I think that a crush on Draco is absolutely WRONG though, why couldn't you have found some other boy at least? Like that Miko guy from Hufflepuff would be a heck of a lot better than Malfoy."  
  
"Ron..." Harry tried to stop the boy.  
  
"At least he's not a Slytherin and he doesn't make fun of people's families and he's not a total jerk. Yeah, why don't you like him?" Ron asked Harry. "I'm not versed in gay relasonships but you'd think Miko would make a much better catch than Malf-"  
  
"Ron!" Harry yelled, finally getting his friend to stop and drawing the stares of a few nearby Gryffindors. "I'm not queer." He hissed.  
  
Ron paused. He gave Harry the 'denial-is-the-first-sign' wink and mouthed a slightly sarcastic "sure". It was probably the only time in Harry's academic career when he had been happy that Snape reentered the room at that moment. Imagine; he was relieved that Snape appeared to force the students back into (fear-induced) cooperation. Oh what an ironic day indeed...  
  
  
More Author's Notes:  
*sigh* I don't know what I'm doing anymore... My Harry is rather OOC (especially with Fred in the beginning)... gadzooks; I feel awful! Why am I writing ficies now? *another sigh* Forgive me... (I wouldn't have the nerve to post a miserable chapter like this but I'm tired of Myra bugging me at school everyday). *looks over the chapter* Darn: I'm probably going to have to rewrite this whole stupid chapter some other stupid time when I'm feeling stupid better/more authory. Dang, review just to make me feel better? (I need a way out of my writer's blues!) I'll give you Pocky! Someone please! Alas, such is the lowly plight of the author...  
But I must thank a few individuals; ClarKeRaVen for continual support and constructive reviews (thanks!!), Krazy Kazuko for giving the world alliteration with K's (not just with her web name) and reviewing when I bug her to, Pasty for putting up with me babbling about HP in Social Studies, Miyama Ishida for being cool and reviewing (I meant to email her but kind of forgot, oops!), Caleyndar for inspiring me with her writing, Lori-chan, Giant Evil Elf Girl b/c she's too funny!, Myra (I can't believe I just wrote that), Lois b/c she gets too much winter break!, and everyone who reviewed! I love HP fans so much b/c they're so good about reviewing stories that they've read! *grumbles about WeiB K fans for being so opposite*...  
  
Random Quote:  
"Agh, my root-beer tastes like bacon." (You really don't wanna know when I heard that one...) 


	8. Pt: 8 Q and A

Title: "Democracy's Demise: Pt. 8"  
Author: Copper Bandit  
Warnings: Shounen-ai type stuff...  
Disclaim: if you didn't know, the Harry Potter books aren't mine and I don't own the characters. I'm just borrowing them...  
Pre-story A/N: Ahh, nevermind. I'll save them for the end...  
  
  
Harry handed Hedwig the parchment on which his offering to Malfoy was scrawled. "Be careful with that." Harry instructed the owl, who was softly hooting. "I wouldn't want that getting into the wrong person's hands." He added.  
  
The owl stretched its wings and soared out one of the owlry's windows into the soft blue sky. Harry watched Hedwig fly southward out of sight before moving quickly out of the tower, hoping that the smell of owls wouldn't linger on his robes for long.  
  
As Harry was walking down the hallway a figure suddenly bounded up to him from a side corridor. Harry's heart fell upon recognizing the mousy haired boy. "Um, hello Colin." He said slowly, looking downward at the stone floor.  
  
"Hullo Harry." Colin Creevy returned the greeting rather coldly, quite unusual considering the younger boy's usually overly friendly disposition. "What are you doing on this side of the school?" He questioned Harry icily.  
  
"Just visiting my owl." He replied, quickening his pace a little as he was aware of a new uneasiness around Colin since the younger boy's proclamation in the Great Hall the other day.  
  
Colin raised a brow. "Uh huh. Sure." He remained quiet for only a moment. "You were sending a love letter to that creep Malfoy weren't you, Harry?" He blurted out loudly, his voice echoing in the empty hall.  
  
Harry stopped in the middle of a stride to face Colin. "No." He lied.  
  
The younger boy pouted. "Harry, why do you like him better than me? Why?" He asked, or more accurately: he whined.  
  
A warm blush spread across Harry's face. "Colin, I'm sorry. It's not what you think-"  
  
"He's a Slytherin!" Colin screamed. "And he's been going out with three different girls off and on for the past two years!"  
  
Harry pinched the bridge of his nose. Great. Now he had a screaming, pouty, whining Colin on his hands that was madly in love with him and currently complaining about how he, Harry, was in love with Draco Malfoy. Could this be any worse? Well, actually he was pretty lucky that the hallway was deserted, Harry realized gratefully.  
  
"Look, Colin." He began slowly, trying to shake off the red blush that he was currently wearing. "I don't want to talk about it. So please, leave me alone." He said bluntly, hoping the boy wouldn't be too hurt.  
  
Colin's eyes clouded up with tears. He sniffled and looked away. "If that's how you want to handle your problems Harry- just go ahead and tell all your other problems to just go away. Though I didn't think that was how the great Harry Potter dealt with his problems."  
  
"Colin-" Harry sighed impatiently, trying not to roll his eyes.  
  
The smaller boy shook his head violently, and stood quite still after a few of the said violent shakes of his head, and a tear fell across his cheek. He bolted and ran the opposite direction from Harry.  
  
Harry sighed, relieved to be rid of the boy. He really was lucky that no one had been in the hallway. Curiously, he wondered why the hallway was in fact empty. The thought struck him like a jab of revelation. Duh! It was dinnertime! Harry resumed his brisk walk, as the thought made him aware that he was in fact ravenous.  
  
Hermione looked up as Harry seated himself at the empty seat beside her. "Harry, why were you so late?" She asked demurely as she passed him the nearest plate of sliced turkey.  
  
"I was sending a post." He replied as he took the food that she had passed him gratefully. "A dreadful long walk, from one side of the school to the other."  
  
Ron nodded from his seat opposite Harry. "That it is. But now you'll be lucky if the turkey is still warm."  
  
Harry took a generous bite of the meat. "No, it's still warm." He said after swallowing. "And quite good too." He added, taking another mouthful of turkey.  
  
"Well it was better when it first appeared on the plates." Ron said defiantly.  
  
"Whatever." Harry dismissed it between mouthfuls. "I really don't care. I've had a long day." He said tiredly as he reached for a plate of biscuits.  
  
Fred, who was sitting next to Ron, spoke up slowly. "Hate to be the bearer of bad news Harry, but your day is going to be a bit longer." He said, sliding a piece of folded parchment across the table to Harry.  
  
Slowly Harry opened the parchment and instantly recognized the neat handwriting. The paper read merely "you know when and where." Harry sighed and took a swig from his goblet. "It's okay Fred. I expected that."  
  
Hermione looked at her friend curiously. "Expected what? Let me see Harry." She said, reaching for the parchment.  
  
Harry snatched the paper out of her hands. "I don't think so." He said slowly, tucking it into the pocket of his robes. He exchanged looks with Fred. "Sorry Hermione."  
  
She sighed. "Secrets, secrets. I see how it is."  
  
"Yeah, me too." Ron chimed. "I may hate the git, but I do like reading gossip about him. The least you could do is share the info with us Harry. Sheesh, I thought we told you that we support whatever directions you decide to pursue. We like hearing bad news about Malfoy especially- but what we're here for is for you to talk to us. So as long as you don't gush and babble about him like the way Ginny used to do at home over you then we're all happy to listen to you Harry. You don't have to hide in the closet anymore about your crush on Malf- HEY!" He yelped since he could only be finally silenced by a hard kick under the table from Harry.  
  
"Ron!" Harry exclaimed. "Will you please shut up! There are people around!" He gave his red-haired friend a stern look.  
  
"Oh!" Ron nodded. "Sorry, I guess I was getting a little carried away." He grinned sheepishly.  
  
Hermione looked a little hurt. "You're really not going to show us the note Harry?"  
  
Harry placed his hand on Hermione's shoulder. "Look- it's not even what you think it is, whatever that may be. I'm sorry I've been in such a lousy mood lately but that's not the only reason I have to say that no, you may not see the note."  
  
She grinned. "So it is a note. Is it a love note? Or is it gossip? Who's it from?" The brown haired girl asked curiously.  
  
Harry sighed. Sometimes there was just no winning with his friends. He looked up away, towards the ceiling where owls were flying in to deliver letters and newspapers. One of the owls caught his eye instantly. Hedwig.  
  
He watched as his owl circled over the Slytherin table twice before dropping the letter that she bore in Draco Malfoy's lap. The blonde boy was seated almost on the other side of the hall from Harry, but he could see the youth as he opened the letter.  
  
Harry imagined that the blonde's blue-gray eyes were probably skimming over the inked script, hopefully more pleased with this poem than the last poor attempt at poetry. He watched as the blonde boy read and looked away when the boy looked up, blue-gray eyes searching across the Great Hall for the poem's author.  
  
Green eyes occupied themselves by staring at the half empty plate that was at Harry's place setting. He focused intently on the food, not wanting any thoughts of Malfoy to plague him at the moment. That and he didn't want to confuse himself any further by wondering about the truth that he would much prefer to stay away from and definitely did not want to dwell on anymore; that he was attracted to those blonde locks and blue-gray eyes.  
  
  
later...  
  
  
Harry opened the door of the locker room and proceeded in. The familiar sight of lockers, benches, mirrors and the doorway to the showers and bathrooms greeted him when he entered. And the sight of the youngest Malfoy, who was already in the room as usual.  
  
Draco was facing Harry, leaning against the wall casually. "Well well." He drawled. "Look who decided to join me."  
  
"Pleasure is all mine." Harry retorted sarcastically. "I just couldn't keep away."  
  
Malfoy's sneer softened a bit. "Rather cocky words for a boy who belongs to me." He remarked coolly. "But then again, I suppose the good puppy deserves a treat for improvement in his poetry attempts."  
  
Harry's green eyes narrowed. "It was satisfactory then I trust?"  
  
Draco Malfoy smirked. "Well, let's just leave it at being a large improvement. It could have been better."  
  
"You're a perfectionist, aren't you?" Harry complained with a frown. He was up for a good two hours the previous night writing and rewriting that poem! He had thought it was pretty decent, if he did say so himself. And Fred had said that it was good too!  
  
"I *am* a perfectionist." The Slytherin nodded smugly. "You should have known that by now."  
  
Harry shook his head. "All I knew was that you're a stupid, mean git with a lousy family."  
  
"Oh shut up." Malfoy dismissed it calmly with a graceful wave of his hand. "You're just jealous of me." He said, crossing over to the mirrored walls to gaze at his reflection vainly.  
  
Harry forced a laugh. "Ha. Me, jealous of a Slytherin? I don't think so."  
  
Malfoy smirked and crossed back towards Harry. "Actually," he drawled, "I beg to differ with that statement." He said, trailing a finger down Harry's robes across his chest.  
  
Not having expected the motion, Harry barely managed to stifle a gasp and wasn't able to stop a shiver.  
  
Malfoy's eyes lit up on the other boy's shudder of what he took for repulsion. "You know I enjoy seeing you pained." He said, leaning towards Harry suddenly, placing his pink lips only a short inch shy of Harry's ear and blowing softly.  
  
Harry leapt away, rubbing his hand furiously against his ear, trying to shake off the warm tingly feeling. "You demented prat!" He fumed, to which Malfoy only laughed coldly. "You're so- so-"  
  
"Superior?" The blonde suggested, advancing toward Harry.  
  
Harry glared. "Perverted." He said defiantly.  
  
The defiance made Malfoy laugh coldly again. "No, I'd say you're the perverted one since you're the one enjoying it."  
  
"What?!" Harry yelped his jaw dropping slightly. "I can't stand you! I'm not queer! I don't enjoy your sadistical nightly torture!" He rushed, hoping that he sounded truthful, since the truth was quite the opposite of his lying words.  
  
Draco smirked. "Yeah. I thought so, I just enjoy seeing you fume when I accuse you of such."  
  
"Sadist." Harry spat.  
  
Malfoy grabbed the other boy's wrists from at his sides and rammed him into the wall. His blue eyes bore met Harry's green gaze. "So what if I am?" The blonde asked with eerie calmness.  
  
"That's sick." Harry said, breaking away from the stare and focusing on a spot on the sidewall.  
  
"To each their own opinion." Draco Malfoy said generously. "And it isn't really your opinion that counts: because you're the victim here and that makes you a bit biased, wouldn't you say?"  
  
Harry's eyes darkened. "Let me go." He demanded.  
  
Surprisingly Malfoy complied and released his hold on the other boy, backing away from him as well. Malfoy watched Harry coldly. "You know," he began, "I only have one day left to try and get you to embarrass yourself." The blonde boy remarked, as if to himself.  
  
The Gryffindor decided not to give Malfoy the decency of a reply, and remained silent instead.  
  
"How about for tomorrow in potions you ask me to the upcoming ball?"  
  
Harry's mouth gaped. "Are you crazy! In front of the whole class?! No way!"  
  
Draco smacked the back of Harry's head not so lightly. "Don't be a fool Potter. That would embarrass me too. No- we'll probably be assigned as partners for potions. You'll ask then, while we're working on the potion."  
  
Harry rolled his eyes. How would he be able to concentrate if he was partners with Malfoy? "Joy." He muttered. But maybe... "What if we're not assigned as partners?"  
  
"We will be." Malfoy said firmly. "Decidedly."  
  
Harry smirked. "Pretty confident are you? How would you know so decidedly?"  
  
"An acquaintance of mine is a senior Divination student. Quite the prodigy actually." He drawled. "We have an arrangement, he gives me information."  
  
"What do you give him in exchange?" Harry inquired, eyes darkening mischievously.  
  
Draco smirked. "None of your business." But the angle he proudly held his head at told Harry that it was most likely money. "Now, if you'll excuse me Potter- I have a rendezvous to be off to." The blonde boy flashed a sarcastic grin and proceeded out of the locker room.  
  
  
Author's note(s):  
Ah yes. Hello! Long time no see, I know. I was trying to think up excuses to use for why it was taking me so long to post, but they all sounded pretty lame and transparent. So I'll just apologize. Sorry. Okay, there; I said it.  
Well I hope you all had happy holidays... mine were pretty fun- and with my long awaited birthday coming up in less than a week things are looking up! Though it would be better if I didn't have this stupid cough/cold thing going on, but whatever. I count my blessings...  
Ack! I'm getting all distracted as I right this (darn the silly radio!). Where was I? I think I may have finally spelled Colin right... Oh yeah, muchos thanks and merriment (what?) to all the readers who reviewed! Please continue with that trend- I like reviews. *nods* So send me comments, random trivia, suggestions, et cetera. Shout outs to: Telefran 


	9. Pt: 9 Angst Amuck!

Title: "Democracy's Demise: Pt. 9"  
  
Author: Copper Bandit  
  
Warnings: A LOT of shounen-ai (though if that bothered ya you wouldn't be this far would you?). But seriously: a lot more than before. And a lot of ANGST running amuck.  
  
Disclaim: It's not fair! Why can't Draco Malfoy and the whole darn Harry Potter series belong to me??  
  
Pre-story A/N: Hi, I'm here again! I was busy for a week recovering from my traditional winter illness, rehearsing for the musical ("Kiss Me Kate" in case you're wondering), and doing stuff for my various clubs. And my muse died. I think an 18-wheeler reduced her to a pancake type thing but that's just my intuition speaking...  
  
On with the merry tale!  
  
  
  
  
The full moon's rays spilled softly through the six-pained window into the dorm room and across the sleeping forms of the fifth-year boys asleep in their four-poster beds. But one of the boys the pale light that fell on was not asleep. In fact, Harry Potter was quite wide-awake.  
  
Harry lay still on his back, staring into the canopy of the bed. The dark haired boy was in deep thought. Thought that just happened to involve planning what he was supposed to say to a certain blonde haired Slytherin.  
  
He rolled onto his side. What the heck was he supposed to say to Malfoy? 'Yo, Draco. Wanna go to the ball with me?' How embarrassing! Of course, embarrassing is what Malfoy wanted, wasn't it?  
  
"Darn flirrels!" Seamus yelled sleepily from within a dream. "Stop it! Stop chasing us!"  
  
Harry sighed. That was the fourth time this month he'd been awake to hear the Irish lad yell strange comments in his sleep. "Seamus you're talking in your sleep again!" He complained out loud in the other boy's direction.  
  
"Back, I said get back!" Seamus muttered, still lost in a dream. "No, don't..." He murmured before going back to sleeping quietly.  
  
Harry stared at the sleeping boy jealously. Seamus was able to drift off and dream just fine. But he, on the other hand, could not; and instead had to lay sleepless in his bed and mope over his predicament.  
  
And what a predicament it was. But Harry reminded himself that in one more day it would all be over for good. But on the other hand...  
  
It wouldn't really be over, because there was no way these newly discovered feelings for Draco Malfoy would go away or that he'd be able to forget about the way he had felt in the Ravenclaw locker room on those encounters with the blonde boy. In fact, as much as he didn't want to admit it, Harry realized he was going to miss those meetings. The times when he had been kissed- touched-  
  
As his mind wandered the Boy-who-Lived drifted into the welcoming, misty arms of sleep.  
  
  
In the morning...  
  
  
For the first time that week no one had to wake Harry up. He slowly awoke on his own, feeling the warmth of the sunshine that poured through the tower's window against his skin before his eyes fluttered open.  
  
Slowly sitting up in his bed Harry stretched his arms up over his head and yawned. He felt invigorated and refreshed. He looked over at the bed nearest him where his best friend was also waking up. "Mornin' Ron!" He said cheerily to the yawning boy.  
  
"Cripes, we have potions first thing today. How can you be so chipper this early knowing that?" Ron said grumpily as he rubbed his eyes.  
  
Harry grinned. "You're just being cynical."  
  
"What time is it?" Seamus asked in a tired voice as he sat up in a nearby bed.  
  
"I dunno." Harry replied. "And by the way, Seamus, you were yelling stuff in your sleep last night again."  
  
Seamus got out of bed lazily. "Sorry 'Arry. What was I screaming 'bout this time?" He asked as he shuffled towards the door.  
  
"Flirrels." Harry said.  
  
Dean, who was buttoning up his robes, laughed. "Seamus you are so weird! Flirrels, eh?" He laughed heartily again.  
  
"Could you be any quieter?" Harry shushed him. "You'll wake Neville."  
  
"I already am awake." Neville Longbottom muttered from underneath the covers. The klutzy boy pulled a pillow over his ears. "You guys are all way too loud."   
  
"Yeah, it was the Flirrel dream again." Seamus nodded, ignoring Neville as he leaned against the doorframe. "Even scarier than last time, too." With that he slipped out the door.  
  
Dean had just finished dressing and was also heading toward the door. "I'll see you at breakfast, guys." He said with a nod before starting to head out the door for the Great Hall.  
  
Harry finished changing out of his pajamas and left the half-vacant dorm room. He hurried over to Fred Weasley who was sitting with his twin and Lee Jordan in one of the couches in the spacious Gryffindor common room. "Fred, could I have a word with you?" He asked a bit nervously.  
  
Fred grinned. "Sure Harry. What seems to be the trouble?"  
  
"Uh, I meant alone." Harry said, looking away from George and Lee.  
  
George stood up. "It's okay." He said loud enough for the twenty or so other students in the common room to overhear. "I can see where we're not wanted." He said over dramatically, yanking Lee up from his seat. "Let's go to breakfast Lee." The redhead suggested and the two boys skipped off.  
  
Harry watched them go, a bit startled. "Are they actually skipping?"  
  
"Yeah." Fred nodded. "Don't ask. It's a long story. So what is it you wanted to talk to me about Harry?" He said, quickly changing the subject as Harry took a seat on the couch facing him.  
  
"How would I - I mean how do I..." Harry found himself unable to begin. "I've never - Uh, I mean I need to-"  
  
"Out with it Harry!" Fred smiled impatiently.  
  
"How would I proceed to ask someone to a ball? I mean if they were male." Harry said bluntly.  
  
Fred was quiet for a moment as a thoughtful look crossed his face. "Well, I suppose you would ask them out quite like the way you'd ask a girl to a ball. I find it's best if you strike up a conversation and come onto the subject and then ask very politely."  
  
Harry nodded. "Oh, okay."  
  
Fred leaned forward toward Harry. "Who were you planning to ask to a ball?"  
  
Harry reddened. "Draco Malfoy." He said in a hushed voice.  
  
The older boy leaned away quickly. "Oh."  
  
"It's part of the stupid agreement." Harry added upon seeing the stunned look on Fred's face. "I'm supposed to ask him out during Potions today, it's the first class I have this morning."  
  
Fred nodded. "Oh. Do you suppose he'll say yes?"  
  
"I don't know." Harry replied with a shrug. Inside a little voice was screaming 'I hope not!' but Harry knew better than to say that to Fred, the only person who actually thought he didn't honestly like Malfoy.  
  
"Well," Fred said, rising from his seat, "we'd better head to breakfast, eh?"  
  
"Yeah I guess."  
  
  
  
  
  
At the end of breakfast it was time for the first classes of the day, which for the fifth year Gryffindors and Slytherin students was Potions. As Harry walked beside Ron and Hermione down to the dungeons where the class was held a nervous fluttery kind of feeling in his stomach was giving him the jitters.  
  
"So I don't really know who I'll take to the ball." Ron, who was babbling like usual, said. "What about you Harry? You've been awfully quiet, are you okay?"  
  
Harry nodded. "Yeah, I'm fine." He stopped to tie his shoe. "I'm not really sure who I'm going to ask to the ball." He lied.  
  
"Here's a surprise," Hermione began. "I've been asked to the ball."  
  
"You expected not to?" Ron teased in a brotherly manner.  
  
Hermione grinned. "Well, I kind of expected that he'd ask me."  
  
"So who is it?" Harry said, feeling genuinely happy for Hermione.  
  
"He's a Ravenclaw that's in my alchemy class. His name is Kenji Honta." She said, tucking a stray strand of brown hair behind her ear. "He's a fifth year too of course, and he's really sweet."  
  
Ron stopped suddenly in mid-stride. "I know who that is! Isn't he Miko Honta's brother?" Hermione nodded slowly, not understanding what Ron was getting at. "Well-" The redhead continued, "maybe you could get him to set up Miko with Harry for the ball!"  
  
"Ron!" Harry yelped, his cheeks burning red. "What the heck?"  
  
He shrugged. "Sorry Harry. But it's not like Malfoy would agree to go to a ball with you, so I was just thinking-"  
  
"Well think on your own time." Harry said defensively. "I can handle my own love life, thank you very much." He pushed past Ron into the classroom and took a seat between Neville and Seamus.  
  
A minute or so passed and the Potions teacher breezed into the room like a gust of frigid air. "You will take your seats." Snape instructed. "We will be working on a rather tricky elixir today so I have taken the liberty of assigning partners myself to ensure that you won't have an urge to pursue trivial gossip rather than the classwork." He said coldly, sending a glare in the general direction of the Gryffindors.  
  
"Mr. Martin and Ms. Parkinson." Snape began to read from a scroll laying on his desk. "Mr. Finnigan and Mr. Crabbe." Neville looked ready to burst into tears. "Ms. Granger and Ms. Fract, Mr. Weasley and Mr. Goyle." Ron pulled an awful face but Goyle didn't look too thrilled either. "Ms. Brown and Mr. Zamboni. Mr. Malfoy-" Harry's heart froze in anticipation, "- and Mr. Potter. Mr. Barber and..." Snape droned on but Harry didn't hear him. His mind was on one thing.  
  
So it was true. He was partnered with Malfoy. Which meant that he would indeed have to ask Malfoy to the ball. As long as he remembered the pointers Fred had given him he figured that he'd be okay. But what if Malfoy did say yes and he had to go the ball with him? Not that going with Malfoy would be a *bad* thing, but it would sort of ruin both their egos...  
  
"You will now find seats beside your partners and commence to work quietly and efficiently on your potions." Snape instructed in his usual critical tone and the students sprang to life, leaping up to find their partners and begin working on the potion.  
  
Somehow Harry's feet managed to override his dazed mind and find their way to Draco Malfoy's desk. "Well," Malfoy said dryly, "look at my luck. I've been paired up with the great Harry Potter."  
  
"Can it, Malfoy." Harry said automatically, his mind jolting back into reality. "I want to just get this potion done, okay?"  
  
Malfoy rolled his eyes. "Yes, that would be the goal, wouldn't it?"  
  
Harry sat down beside the blonde boy and glanced at the parchment that had been handed to them by Professor Snape. "The decanter potion." He read aloud. "I guess I'll chop up the roots." He said, reaching to get the ingredients from his caldron. "Why don't you measure the crushed boomslang skin?"  
  
Draco Malfoy made a face but began to measure out the fine pink powder. They worked in silence for awhile when Harry spoke up slowly. "So... there's a ball coming up, huh?"  
  
Blue-gray eyes met Harry's green gaze. "Look. I don't want to exchange pleasantries as though we were best buddies or some crap like that with you Potter. But if you have something to say spit it out already." The blonde said venomously.  
  
Harry sat stunned for a moment before starting again. "Well, I know we're not 'best buddies or some crap like that' as you put it, but I don't know why we have to be such bitter enemies. Maybe if we, uh, got to know each other better we could get along better."  
  
"Oh really?" Malfoy's eyes narrowed, a note of amusement in his voice. "What do you propose?"  
  
"Well, there's a ball coming up and I just thought maybe we could, you know-"  
  
"No. I don't know." Draco Malfoy replied, obviously very amused by the flustered, nervous state that Harry was in. "What?"  
  
It was like each syllable took an eternity to articulate instead of the split second it actually was. "Go to the ball together."  
  
The amused smirk on Draco's face faltered. "Are you crazy?" He asked bluntly. Harry's ears burned as he noticed several nearby partners had overheard. "You want to what?" Draco repeated, the cruel smirk creeping back on his face.  
  
"Please consider it for a moment before you say no!" Harry gushed, very uncustomary to his usual composure. "It would mean a lot to me and it could be kind of fun. As much as you hate me, could you please just entertain the notion just for a minute, Malfoy?"  
  
Malfoy frowned. "You're right Potter, I do hate you. But if it really means as much to you as you say it does, I suppose I could entertain the notion. I'll tell you my verdict after dinner, so just count on being rejected around 7:00 then?"  
  
A strange sort of joy (or some related sort of feeling) fluttered into Harry's heart. "Okay." He managed to choke out weakly. But he did feel rather embarrassed, and the rest of the Potions class was spent with the two boys silently working on the potion.  
  
  
  
  
  
Classes come and go, but meal time is the true unit that the boarding school experience is measured in. And thus dinnertime made its presence known. Ah dinner, yes the traditional rush of activity at 6 'o clock when all of Hogwarts crowded into the Great Hall for some wonderful homemade grub, just like the kind Mom used to make.  
  
Laughter floated through the Great Hall as students seated at their house tables tried to forget about upcoming assignments and be merry. But just as all good things come to an end the students found themselves at the end of dinnertime. The Great Hall slowly emptied as students headed back to their dorms.  
  
But Harry Potter was not on his way back up to his dorm. Nay, the Gryffindor boy had known what Malfoy meant when he had said he'd announce his verdict "after dinner". It was time for the customary Ravenclaw Locker Room Rendezvous!  
  
Harry pushed open the locker room door and entered. Strange, how familiar this setting had become for him over the last week. He walked into the main locker room where Draco Malfoy was leaning against a wall of lockers, looking quite dashing.  
  
"I'm here." Harry announced uneasily.  
  
"Well la-ti-frickin-da." Draco drawled. "And I'm sure you're just dying to hear a certain something?"  
  
Harry stopped ten feet short of Malfoy. "Well, not dying exactly, though I am curious."  
  
"Well, as thrilling as it was to ponder," the Slytherin began, "I found that I tired of the idea rather quickly. Especially since I'm such sought after gentleman and I have a few obligations that night already. So for multiple reasons, though primarily due to past commitments, I have to decline your offer."  
  
Harry didn't know whether he really wanted to pout about it, or sigh in relief that his ego would still get to remain (somewhat) unblemished. "Oh, well then I guess-"  
  
The Slytherin cut him off. "However- knowing how much you simply adore me I'll give you the honor of one dance." Harry paled. Did Draco correctly suspect that he truly liked him? Or was he just trying to harass him? "And being such a man of honor you can't go back on that or unaccept."  
  
Harry was relieved. Malfoy was obviously going to dance with him because the Slytherin thought that it would make Harry uncomfortable. Little did he know... "Can I go now?" Harry asked with sudden impatience.  
  
"Go? Now?" Draco asked, humored. "But this is my last hour with you and I have yet to fully torment you as much as I wanted to this week."  
  
"I don't think you could ever finishing tormenting me as you wanted, no matter how much time you had on your hands." Harry retorted.  
  
The smirk on Malfoy's pale face widened. "You know, you're not half as dumb as you look, though that doesn't account for very much." There was a moment of silence before Malfoy spoke again. "But I can sure try to." He said, a malicious glint appearing in his eyes before he lunged at Harry.  
  
Malfoy slammed the unsuspecting Harry into a wall of lockers with bruising force, pushing up onto him before the startled Harry could put up any sort of mock-protest. Before he was aware of what was happening Malfoy had tucked one of Harry's arms behind his own back and pinned the other arm by the wrist up above Harry's head. Malfoy's free hand clawed across Harry's shoulder and chest as he kissed Harry with additional completely surprising amount of force.  
  
Pain tore through Harry's shoulder as the blonde's nails dug into him. Also painfully sore was the arm trapped behind his back. But at the same time, in a perverse way, it felt good. Harry struggled weakly, not truly wanting it to stop. Malfoy, who was obviously stronger than him, did not relent, and shoved an elbow into Harry's ribs, causing the dark haired boy to wince and gasp for breath.  
  
But Malfoy's mouth on top of his made it hard to breathe at all. The dark   
haired boy tried to turn his head away but the Slytherin was one step ahead of him. Harry stopped his futile struggling suddenly, a plan forming in his mind as he fought against letting a sudden moan of pleasure escape his lips.  
  
Why would Malfoy do this to him if the blonde truly hated him? Maybe Malfoy felt the same way- No, Harry decided, that was a crazy notion. Malfoy was a known womanizer. But then again... Harry had heard a few of the string of rumors questioning the pretty blonde boy's sexual orientation that had been going around at the beginning of the year courtesy of a couple gossipy Hufflepuff girls. Could he truly-?  
  
Something Ron had told him once a long time ago suddenly crossed Harry's mind. "If it feels right just go with it. Ask questions later." Harry reminded himself that he was a Gryffindor, a member of the house legendary for courage. It was decided then, he would go for it.  
  
Without hesitating any further, Harry responded to Malfoy's less than chaste kiss. It took only a second though before the blonde realized what was going on and sprang backward away from the other boy, a look of horror on his pale features.  
  
"Wh- wha- what?" The blonde boy stuttered, his face aghast. "You maggot!" He screamed unexpectedly, backing further away.  
  
A cold numbness began to creep across Harry. "I thought that-" he started.  
  
"You were enjoying it?" Malfoy asked, horrified.  
  
Silence on Harry's part.  
  
"You masochist!" The Slytherin yelled accusingly. "You sick little-"  
  
"Well was I supposed to think that you didn't like me when you were doing things like that to me?" Harry interrupted, his thin frame shaking slightly as he spoke.  
  
Malfoy's beautiful gray-blue eyes held disgust and loathing like nothing Harry had ever seen before. "I'm a Malfoy. We do things to people that we hate to hurt them, because we get pleasure out of hurting others." His voice, dangerously low, was cold and blunt.  
  
He continued. "I did those things thinking that you would hate it and be pained. I did it because I hate you Harry. More than you will ever understand."  
  
Invisible icy ropes wound around Harry's chest and heart, cruelly constricting and contracting around him, sending bolts of emotional pain flooding through him. "But-"  
  
"I hate you!" Malfoy yelled again, slamming his fist against the nearby wall for effect. "I just wanted to make you feel horrible, low, and to dehumanize you. Being the nice person I am I was never going to rape you, but I didn't mind carrying out the rape fore-play as long as it hurt you."  
  
"You hate me that much?" He said weakly, not wanting to believe his ears.   
  
Malfoy did not look away or falter, and gave a nodding jerk of his head.  
  
Without thinking Harry bolted from the locker room, relying on instinct to guide him to the Gryffandor common room as tears blur his vision. He smacked into the portrait of the fat lady, who looked alarmed. "What's wrong dear?"  
  
"Buttercup!" Harry managed to say through hiccuping sobs, pushing past her into the nearly empty common room. The dark haired boy stumbled into the back of the room toward the heat radiating from the fireplace.  
  
"Harry?" A familiar voice asked in surprise. "Harry what-"  
  
"It's nothing, go away!" Harry sobbed, trying to push past the taller boy.  
  
Fred grabbed him by the shoulders. "No Harry. You're going to tell me what happened." He said kindly to the younger boy, taking him in his arms.  
  
"No..." He said weakly but didn't struggle. His eyes closed as silent sobs shook his thin frame. "It hurts so much." He whimpered.  
  
The older boy smoothed Harry's dark locks tenderly. "Harry?" Fred questioned kindly, brotherly affection shining in his eyes.  
  
"Rejected." Came the quiet reply. "He hates me."  
  
"Then he wasn't worth you."  
  
He recognized the words and dismissed it as a cliche, but it did make him feel a bit better. "I feel so used." He whispered as his tears began to lessen.  
  
"You'll feel better in the morning." Fred tried to comfort him. "You really need to get some rest, Harry." Harry nodded feebly, though he didn't know how he would manage to go to sleep with the loose glass shard like pain in his chest stinging horribly. But the emotional stress had taken its toll and exhausted him, and he fell into an uneasy, listless sleep.  
  
  
Author's notes: (this is going to be looong)  
  
I felt bad about not posting in so long that when I finally sat down to write this chapter ended up being over twice as long as my usual chapter lenght. And I was far to lazy to split it up into two chapters.  
  
My muse died so I ended up writing the angst without her guidance (could ya tell?). So if anyone sees a muse looking for work could you send him/her my way as a replacement??  
  
On a serious note (yes you heard me right), I dunno if I should have upped the rating on this chapter. R seems a bit high, but you can never be too careful and I'm no good at being able to discern between R and PG13 anymore... so if this *is* R material please drop me a note at copper_bandit@yahoo.com so I can fix it!  
  
Or just email me at that address if you'd like to: 1) be cool and write me, 2) send a recipe for strawberry-rubarb pie, 3) tell me a story about swallowing Canadian pennies as a child, 4) send love notes, or 5) anything else.  
And if you're wondering how I wrote without a muse... I ate a lot of salty trail mix, was driven by not wanting people to harass me anymore ("where's chapter nine???" and all the like), and Krazy Kazuko pointed me toward The Jar! Is there anything cooler? Uh, NO! I may be officially in love with Zach and/or Trent. Or the other guy. Ah, inspiration sweet inspiration. So run (don't walk) to http://www.montroseacademy.com/jar/ because Bunny-Mech wants you to!  
Midterm week was fun. I got to work on setting up a live journal, lay around at home, and actually use AIM for once. And my Digimon toys I bought off eBay finally came for me today!!  
  
Mandatory thank you's:  
  
Krazy Kazuko (b/c she introduced me to The Jar!), Lori, Myra (b/c she keeps 'reminding' me to get this posted), Pasty, Holly + Ashira (for silly jokes), catzini (It was only my muse that died), Pawn of Fate (you never know, he could still fancy Harry!), Prodigy ("my rootbeer tastes like Bacon" was this really hot guy in my Marketing class very randomly. Then he drank the whole thing. Yum I'm sure), Kin Ryu, Ambrosius, mandraco, Brigette (Who's really cool!), VanityFair (don't hog Tom Felton all for yourself! Sharing is caring!), angelstar, Alynnia*McKinnon, Sorceress Jade, Prophetess Of Hearts, Draco Malfoy N Harry Potter, Amethyst Soul (muchos constructive comment!), dragon in the stars, ClarKeRaVen (b/c she's cool! Guys do take a long time to see their predicament. It's because they're silly.), Draco Malfoy is my love slave (heh heh, funny name!), Miyama Ishida (who I *still* haven't emailed... oops!), Evil Windstar, Ashna (kissie face! Almost groping. Happy? Please?), lynn, and all my other silly readers! (repeat after me Krazy Kazuko: silly is good. Your harem is bad.). Keep reviewing me please hep cats and daddy-o's! (now I'm scaring even myself...)  
  
"Stupidity. Insanity. Pickle." (heh heh. You gotta love webcomics!) 


	10. Pt: 10 Tranquility Shattered

Title: "Democracy's Demise: Pt. 10"  
Author: Copper Bandit  
Warnings: Uh, shounen-ai? Like, duh. Not responsible for misspelled names.  
Disclaim: Yep. Standard.  
Pre-story A/N: Did we all have a happy St. Valentine's Day?  
  
  
Shafts of light fell softly through the windows, spilling into the room to herald the coming of another morning. One ribbon of the said light fell into the room across the sleeping form of Harry Potter. The sleeping boy stirred as the light rested on his face.  
  
He sat up slowly, blinking. The scene around him was unfamiliar and unrecognizable, lines blurring together to create a murky image that he could not discern. Harry's hand moved automatically along his right side, feeling for where he kept his glasses. He felt nothing except the edge of a low coffee table.  
  
Harry blinked some more, but everything remained just as unfocused as it had been before. "Where are they?" He muttered to himself as he felt around again for his glasses.  
  
"Harry?" A young, feminine voice asked from behind him. "Is that you?"  
  
His head whipped around, and he was barely able to make out the sight of a shadowy, foggy figure. "Who's there?"  
  
"It's me." The girl replied. There was a brief silence before she realized. "Oh, I'm Ginny. Sorry Harry, I didn't notice you didn't have your glasses on." She apologized, feeling slightly stupid.  
  
"Would you mind helping me find them?" Harry asked, a note of embarrassment in his voice. "I don't know where they are. I don't really know where I am, to tell you the truth." He admitted.  
  
"You're in the common room." Ginny replied, a bit startled. "Lying on a couch." He could hear Ginny approach him, and saw fuzzy shadows moving correspondingly. "Here's your glasses." She said, placing an object with a very familiar feel into Harry's outstretched hand.  
  
Harry put the glasses on and the room spun into focus and what had been shadows turned into the distinct figure of Ginny Weasley standing a few feet from him. "Thanks Ginny."  
  
The younger girl gave him a long look. "Harry, why aren't you in the dorm room?" She asked, leaning forward curiously.  
  
Good question, as far as Harry was concerned. "Uh..." He trailed off, unsure of why. He tried to remember why, and was puzzled. But then, the memories hit him suddenly like a brick. He fell back onto the couch, a tremor running through his body. "Aww..." He moaned, resisting the urge to curse floridly.  
  
"Harry?" Ginny asked in a concerned voice, sitting beside him on the edge of the couch. "You know I don't think less of you just because you have a drinking problem-"  
  
He shook his head half-heartedly. "It's not that." Though that would be so much easier than having to live with the knowledge of... well, yeah. "No, it's not that at all."  
  
Ginny looked up suddenly, and Harry followed her gaze to one of the doorways where Fred Weasley was standing. "Good morning." Ginny said cheerfully, standing up from where she had been sitting beside Harry, her cheeks were slightly red.  
  
"Good morning Sis." Fred greeted her. "Good morning Harry. Feeling better I hope?" The redhead inquired kindly.  
  
Harry's mind sped backward. Fred? Yes, it was Fred. It had to be Fred that had settled him on the couch and spread the quilt across him. Because it was definitely Fred that had given him an open ear and kind words when he needed it last night.  
  
"Fred-" Harry said, choking up a bit. "Thank you for-"  
  
Fred waved it off. "It's okay Harry, I was just doing what anyone would have done."  
  
Harry shook his head. "No, that's not true. Not just anyone would have done that. You're a real pal."  
  
A pleasant blush spread across the redhead head's cheeks. "Aw, gee Harry! You're making me blush." It was only a moment after the words escaped his mouth when an identical boy came bounding through the doorway with a darker boy on his heels.  
  
"Mornin' Fred, Ginny, Harry!" George chirped.  
  
"Ditto." Lee Jordan agreed, somehow managing not to sound ditzy. "Is there a party going on here?"  
  
Fred smirked. "Yes. But sadly, you're not invited." He joked.  
  
"Like I'd want to go to a party with my twin, little sister, and Golden Boy?" George retorted. "I'd much rather go to breakfast. Which is where I'm headed."  
  
"Hey," Lee cut in curiously, "did you sleep on that couch last night, Harry?"  
  
Harry reddened. "None of your business." Fred answered for him, for which Harry was grateful. "Sounds like a good idea though, I'd like to get to the Great Hall before the rest of humanity does today." Fred continued.  
  
"Me too." Ginny agreed. "I hate cold eggs."  
  
"Then lets go." Lee and George said in chorus, leading the way for the others as they skipped through the portrait of the Fat Lady on their way to breakfast.  
  
  
  
  
  
Eggs. Bacon. Toast. Harry sighed glumly. Breakfast was getting to be quite a pathetic affair. Quite a predictable affair, too. Eggs, bacon, toast, a fruit dish, and sometimes the occasional leftover from dinner. And juice. Harry sighed again.  
  
From the middle of a rant about Quidditch ethics Ron suddenly paused. "Oh, I nearly forgot to tell you, Harry." He said suddenly, turning toward his dark-haired friend, who was pushing food around on his plate with a fork.  
  
"What?" Harry replied, not even bothering to hide his disinterest.  
  
"You know Hermione's boyfriend?" Ron began. "The Ravenclaw kid, you know- the Oriental looking one, what's his name?"  
  
Hermione reddened. "Kenji is not my boyfriend!" She said rather shrilly.  
  
"Whatever." Ron continued. "I finally talked to his brother for you! He's a nice guy, I think you'll like him. I asked him if-"  
  
Harry glowered at his friend. "Ron. I don't like boys. I'm not queer."  
  
Ron smiled sweetly. "Whatever you say Harry. But anyway, unfortunately he's not interested in a relationship right now. But he said he would love to have a little chit-chat with you. I thought it would really put you at ease."  
  
"No. I refuse to talk to him." Harry said. "And I really don't appreciate you setting me up to have a, what did you call it? A 'chit-chat' with him. I refuse to do anything of the sort!"  
  
"That's too bad Harry, because he's walking over here right now." Ron said, unable to suppress a triumphant grin.  
  
Harry followed Ron's gaze. Walking toward the Gryffindor table was a tall boy whose robes distinguished him as a Ravenclaw. Harry tried not to let his jaw scrape the floor. The boy was beautiful. He had dark chocolate colored, almond shaped eyes that were framed by dark hair that fell neatly into place. If this guy's little brother looked anything like him it was no surprise why Hermione was so excited to accompany him to the ball. Why didn't Harry remember ever seeing the boy at Hogwarts before?  
  
"Hullo." The boy said upon coming into a closer range. "You must be Harry?"  
  
"Yeah." Harry said weakly. "And you're?"  
  
"Miko Honta." The boy said with a grin. Miko's gaze wandered to the table where Harry's plate lay. "Are you finished?" He asked politely. Harry nodded. "Good, I was wondering if you'd like to take a walk with me?"  
  
"Uh, sure." Harry replied, rising to his feet.  
  
"Your brother is Kenji?" Hermione blurted out suddenly. "Right?"  
  
Miko nodded. "Yes, you must be Hermione? He talks about you all the time." Hermione flushed with pleasure. "Don't worry, I'll have your Harry back in time for his first class." The older boy said with a wink to Ron.  
  
Harry followed the sixth year out of the Great Hall and out of the school completely. He found himself outside, where the cold morning air nipped at his face.  
  
"Well." Miko said. "Your friend Ron told me you had a crush on a certain Mr. Malfoy."  
  
The boy who lived grimaced. What kind of way to start off a conversation was that? It was beyond blunt! "Um..."  
  
"Though I didn't find that too surprising. You know Marcus Flint was fascinated with that boy? Though he didn't dare touch him, a sixth year and a first year? Oh what a scandal that would have made. But when poor Malfoy was a second year? Well, you know how arrogant seventh years get, they think they can do, or have, anything."  
  
Harry began to blush slightly. Why was Miko telling him this?  
  
"That's where I came in. That was when Draco and I began our first formal relationship- but not like that! It was purely platonic. Well, it was more of a business relationship. I kept Marcus away from dear Draco."  
  
The words Miko had said swirled around slowly in Harry's brain. "You were a prostitute?!" Harry yelped, unable to restrain that outburst once the thought crossed his mind.  
  
Miko laughed. "Goodness no! Nor was I a bodyguard for Malfoy either. I don't suppose you'd understand even if I explained it to you. The point I meant to make is that Draco Malfoy and I have had a long history together."  
  
He continued, giving Harry no chance to ask any questions. "Not to brag, but I'm a divination prodigy of sorts. I give Draco information and he pays me."  
  
It dawned on Harry. "You're the one that told Malfoy we would be assigned as partners in potions yesterday!" He accused.  
  
Miko looked pleased. "Why yes! I am he. I also told him that the Cannons were going to loose. That's why you lost Draco's bet Harry. Nasty little predicament for you, eh? Though I can't say us Ravenclaws didn't find the tasty little stories that were circulating about you being in love with Draco quite amusing."  
  
Harry felt ruffled. "Well it wasn't fun. Why did you give that sort of information to Draco?"  
  
The older boy was taken back. "I receive money for my services. And he is a long time acquaintance. One might go so far as to call him a friend. And I'm willing to be your friend too, Harry. Which is why I was going to tell you about the gardens Draco goes to every night."  
  
"Gardens?" Harry asked curiously.  
  
Miko nodded. "Yes, the ones on the southwest corner of the Hogwarts grounds. They were last used years and years ago. They're overgrown now. But it's a rather nice place to go to for solitude. I believe he goes at quarter to eight o clock."  
  
Harry was dumbfounded for a moment, but he quickly recovered. "What do you expect me to do with this information?" He asked warily.  
  
Miko shrugged, but there was a charming grin on his face. "Oh, I don't know. Whatever you wish." With that he turned on his heel and headed back into the castle. "There's only a little bit till the first round of classes." He called over his shoulder to Harry. "I suggest you hurry, you don't want to be late."  
  
  
  
  
It was another boring history lecture, and Harry's mind began to wander. He found himself milling over the events of earlier that morning. The thought of Miko put him at a loss for words, though he really didn't know why. As handsome as the older boy was, Harry wasn't attracted to him, so it wasn't that. Miko certainly was charming. But the reason for the charm evaded him. Why was Miko nice enough to tell him about Malfoy's whole garden visits thing?  
  
He wasn't sure, but Miko had seemed sincere, so it didn't really feel like a trap or anything suspicious. There was only one way to be sure though, he would have to go.  
  
A plan was formulating in Harry's mind. He would go tonight. Alone. He would hide and see if Malfoy did indeed visit some long lost garden on the edge of the Hogwarts property.  
  
He could hardly wait.  
  
  
  
  
  
Dusk was upon the land. Where the heavenly sphere met the earth the sun could be seen sinking into the very land of the horizon itself. Holding the worn parchment that was the Marauder's map, Harry walked resolutely out of the castle, hidden under his invisibility cloak. He walked toward the setting sun, the southwest.  
  
The map showed just a small pond and a small, unlabeled structure. But when Harry approached he saw that it was a small, old-fashioned pagoda, covered with ivy vines and sporting peeling paint. There was indeed a garden, and Harry could tell that it had been quite magnificent a long time ago. It was still nice, but it was only at a fraction of what it probably could be if it had proper care. Harry hid behind a large cherry tree that was enchanted to be eternally in bloom. He sat with his back against the trunk and settled in to wait.  
  
Just as Miko had told him, like clockwork, at quarter to eight Malfoy's figure came into view on the map as being in the garden with Harry. Cautiously, the Gryffindor peaked around the trunk of the cherry tree.  
  
The lithe blonde was walking through the garden with his back facing Harry. He stooped low suddenly to examine a group of hyacinths. He plucked one of the blooms and carried it over to the pond. He sat down slowly at the water's edge.  
  
A pang tore through Harry's heart. It was the realization that he did like Malfoy. A lot. And the knowledge that he had been rejected. Being able to see Malfoy sitting so calmly, so close to him and yet a lifetime away, was too much for him to bear. Harry bolted from behind the tree.  
  
The sound of snapping twigs caused Malfoy's head to jerk away from the waterfront. "Who's there?" He yelled, his gray-blue eyes narrowing as he strained to see in what little light was left by the retreating sun.  
  
He could not, and did not see the invisible boy running toward the castle.  
  
  
Author's Notes!  
I know it took forever to get this chapter out. Everyone probably thinks I died. Or that I'm one of "those" authors. The ones that abandon stories like sailors from a sinking ship. Uh, but I'm not. Or at least I don't suppose I am. It just happened to take a long time. *ignores all the little voices that chant "Because you're LAZY!" in unison* Anyway...  
Muchos thanks to my reviewers (don't worry, I'll get to the ego boosting name call in a sec). I did find a substitute muse! Thank you Kin Ryu!! *blinks at Emerald the cat*. Is this thing on? *gets wacked in the head with random plot ideas* Ah... It's working now. *sneezes*. Allegra!!  
  
Many thanks to:  
Krazy Kazuko (who likes kitties.), Lady M (More TDP please? Note; I said TDP, not TDR!), Pasty (who doesn't value Mao's contributions), Morgan (Don't be mad! I thought out the plot. Eleven, ok?), Holly (my original co-girlygirlygirl), Ashna (who sent me a most amusing letter. muchos gracias! I just kind of forgot to reply...), Lodestar (Yes, Jar=goodness, and grassy pastures for happy sheep), Pawn of Fate, Lothlorien, Sorceress Jade, Night Spirit, Prophetess of Hearts, Kin Ryu (who loaned me a muse!), Clarkeraven (as always, for muchos constructive reviewing), Miyama Ishida (wah! You should email me! I have no brain and I never remember to), Misty Giles (who was so sweet to send me a recipe!), Evil Windstar, and uh, all the other people who reviewed. Because I really appreciate it! (which is proof I have little social life. Bleh. I need a Mr. Darcy!!)  
  
Random Quote:  
"...So it'll be like a February dance in February..."  
It was 2/16, so duh it was a "February" dance! And it was an interesting dance too...  
  
Random Contact info I feel like adding:  
Email: Copper_bandit@yahoo.com  
Aim: coperbandit0 


	11. Pt: 11 Trivialities

Title: "Democracy's Demise: Pt. 11"  
  
Author: Copper Bandit  
  
Warnings: It's baa-ack! Caution; this has shounen-ai/yaoi/slash!  
  
Disclaim: The Harry Potter books and movies aren't mine. Nor is Tom Felton (*pouts* which is a pity...)  
  
Pre-story A/N: I'm sorry! It's been awhile! The only apology I can offer is excuses. And that makes a pathetic apology.  
  
Harry stood in front of the mirror for an unusually long time that night. He stood only a few feet away from the glass, his green eyes intently focused on his reflection. He was of medium build and a bit on the thin side. His hair was a bit unruly, but several girls had told him before that it was the "attractive sort of unruly". His eyes were green of course, and were behind a reasonable pair of glasses.  
  
He wasn't vain or conceited, but he had been told before on several occasions that he was good-looking, and on one occasion he was even told that he was handsome. He looked critically over his bone structure, critiquing mentally each of his features.  
  
The only thing he was able to conclude was that he wasn't horrid looking in the least. However he was not nearly as handsome as Miko Honta either.  
  
Harry scowled at the mirror, and his reflection scowled back. It just made him more upset with the boy staring back at him. The reflection wasn't good enough for the object of his desires, and neither was he.  
  
He was not good enough for Draco Malfoy.  
  
The look on his face changed from a scowl to contempt. A wave of self-hatred swept through him and he reached out. He grabbed hold of the mirror and pulled it with brutal force to the floor, letting it smash; the metallic sounds of breaking shards ringing in his ears.  
  
The Boy-Who-Lived gazed quietly at the mess on the boy's lavatory floor. Sidestepping the shattered mirror, he walked out calmly, though his fists were clenched tightly at his sides. He was so upset that he had ceased to pay attention to where he was going. Turning an ornately carved knob Harry expected to be walking into his familiar dorm room, however it was not the right dorm room.  
  
Light from the hall spilled into the dimly lit room, illuminating the two figures on the bed. Light skin was pressed against dark, there was the red hair that was so impossible to not notice, and the meeting of lips on lips.  
  
Harry stood stunned in the doorway. The two boys pulled away from each other instantly. "It's not what you think Harry." Lee Jordan said quickly, a bashful look spreading across his face.  
  
"Actually," George began sheepishly contradicting his boyfriend, "it was what you're probably thinking."  
  
"What do you think that I'm thinking?" Harry asked dryly, unsure of what to make of the situation.  
  
George paused, and a red tinge appeared on his face. "That Lee and I were, uh, uh..." He trailed off uncomfortably.  
  
"Making out." Lee supplied, suddenly less bashful.  
  
Harry frowned slowly. "You guys are..." He looked to them, hoping one of them would contribute the appropriate word choice, but both of the older boys avoided eye contact. "Seeing each other?"  
  
"Quite a lot of each other actually." George mumbled, but he was silenced by an embarrassed kick from Lee. George cleared his throat nervously. "You don't think less of us, do you? Well you can't of course," He began to ramble, "seeing as you're like us too."  
  
Harry blinked and looked at them blankly, not understanding.  
  
George cleared his throat, uncomfortable with the situation. He was uncomfortable in situations in which he found himself unable to crack jokes, and this was no exception. "Harry?" He asked, wondering if Harry was mentally in their dimension.  
  
"How long has this been going on?" Harry asked suddenly and unexpectedly.  
  
George and Lee exchanged looks. "Um, I dunno." Lee spoke up. "Maybe a week or so?"  
  
Harry put a hand to his temple, his head was spinning and the throbbing sensation that was growing stronger by the minute was most unbearable. "Does Fred know?"  
  
At the mention of his brother's name George's face immediately fell. "A little too much I suppose." He said, a note of sadness on his voice. Harry looked at him sternly, a silent order for him to explain what he meant, but the redhead shook his head solemnly. "You'll have to ask him about it. I wouldn't tell you unless I know he would be okay with me telling."  
  
This comment puzzled Harry only a little when he first heard it, but as he pondered it latter it began to puzzle him even more, and consequently to irritate him quite a deal.  
  
Lee took George's hand in a quiet but bold gesture. "You're not going to tell anyone, are you?" Harry shook his head, to which Lee looked grateful. "Oh thank you. We're not ready to," the young lovers exchanged looks again while Lee paused, "'come out' quite yet."  
  
"I only have one question." Harry began, a small smile forming on his lips. "Is this the reason you two have been skipping around lately?"  
  
The two older boys looked at each other and grinned. "Yeah." George admitted, a goofy look forming across his face.  
  
Harry looked at them. They no longer looked worried or embarrassed. They looked genuinely happy when they looked at each other like that. It was a look of devotion. It was a look of affection. They looked happy. Content. A sudden wave of jealousy washed over Harry. Why could they be allowed to be happy when he was so miserable? The realization of life being unfair struck him hard, and made his heart wrench. He wasn't mad at George or Lee as individuals, but he was mad at what they represented. "Have a good night, I'll see you in the morning." He said quickly through clenched teeth before storming out of the dorm.  
  
Harry walked quickly through the Gryffindor tower hallway, this time taking care to watch where he was going. Intruding on one couple a night was one too many he reckoned. Upon reaching his dorm room he threw open the door and entered, slamming the door shut behind him. The sound of the door echoed through the tower hallway.  
  
  
  
In the common room of the tower Collin Creevy was sitting on a large armchair looking at his collection of photographs that had been taken over the course of his four years at Hogwarts. It was quite the large collection, and there were many different subjects. But his prize photos were of course those he had taken of The Boy Who Lived.  
  
A dark haired boy ducked and held up his hands, trying to avoid being photographed. It was the typical Harry picture. Colin looked at it closely. Harry's hair was being lightly ruffled in an unseen breeze and there were tiny people zooming over head on broomsticks. Harry looked grumpy and unhappy, but Collin considered it to be a beautiful picture anyway.  
  
"Collin!" A girl's voice said from the staircase. Collin looked up. It was his classmate Morgan LaFay, a bouncy girl of the same age as him. "Collin, guess what?" She began, speaking a tone of excitement.  
  
"Harry decided he hates Malfoy?" The small boy asked hopefully.  
  
"Ha." She replied sarcastically. "We all wish. But no. But something else." She looked at him expectantly, but continued. "Fine, don't guess. I was just in the hall and I saw him go storming into his dorm room. He slammed the door shut behind him and everything. I think he's in a bad mood."  
  
Collin looked lost for a moment. "Why is this news you think would excite me?"  
  
Morgan sighed exasperatedly. "Harry is unhappy. If he's unhappy how does that mean his love life is going?"  
  
"Miserably!" Collin shouted enthusiastically, understanding his friend's point. "Oh that's just wonderful!" His eyes filling with glee.  
  
His friend nodded happily too. "I know. But-" She paused, suddenly looking less happy. "I feel a little guilty, you know?" Collin looked at her blankly. "Well, I feel guilty because I don't mind admitting that I'm madly in love with him and that I'm positively smitten with him, but I enjoy seeing him miserable? I can't help but think that if I truly loved him I would want to see him happy."  
  
Collin's look changed from being blank to being horrified. "Stop being such a romantic! That's such a Victorian notion! Honestly, that died out ages ago. We don't have to feel like his happiness is foremost in order to be in love with him."  
  
Morgan looked suddenly relieved. "Oh good, because I don't feel bad at all about him being miserable if it means that his love life with Malfoy," she made a face, "is going poorly." She walked over to where Collin was sitting on his bed. "Oh, are those some of your pictures?"  
  
Collin nodded. "Yeah, I was thinking about sorting them into albums, but that would ruin the effect of disorganization that I was striving for."  
  
Morgan smirked. "Whatever." She reached out and began to sort through a stack that was set aside from the majority of the pictures. "Hey, these are all pictures of Harry."  
  
"You're welcome to drool over them if you want with Latisha in the girl's dormitory later." Collin offered generously. "But return them in the morning, I'm rather attached to them and I'd hate to have them out of my possession for more than a few hours."  
  
The girl stood silently looking at one picture in particular. "This is my favorite picture I've seen so far." Morgan remarked.  
  
"Which one is it?" Collin asked.  
  
She tossed it to him and he looked at it. He remembered when he had taken that picture. It was a close-up of Harry of course, and the dark haired boy was smiling and looking at something off toward the right, his green eyes half closed in mid-laugh. It had been taken on regular Muggle film, so the image of a happy Harry was frozen for eternity in Collin Creevy's.  
  
"It's one of the few where he actually looks happy. Why is that, Collin?" Morgan asked her friend.  
  
"Hm?" Collin looked up. "What did you say?"  
  
She sighed, but repeated herself. "Why is that one of the few pictures where he looks happy? All the others he's trying to not be in the picture, he'll have his hands up or be trying to duck out of it. That or he stands there looking glum. But in that one he looks happy."  
  
"I zoomed in a whole bunch, he didn't know that I was taking it. He was with Ron and Hermione and his other friends, if I recall correctly." Collin told her as he studied the picture. He frowned at the photograph in his hands suddenly. "He looks so happy here. And handsome. You know he looks much handsomer when he smiles, so I do wish he'd stop being so moody as he's been recently and be happier more."  
  
Morgan snatched the picture from Collin's hands. "Actually he looks much handsomer when he isn't on that detestable Muggle film. He looks handsomer when he's moving. I'll never understand your silly Muggle traditions. Non-moving film? That's so blah." She smiled in spite of herself.  
  
Collin pretended to look hurt. "It's Kodak film, what more could you ask for?"  
  
"A lot actually." Morgan said as she began to walk toward the stairwell. She blew him a rather sarcastic kiss. "G'night Collin, and don't fret your head off, I'll be sure to have these pictures back by the morning, or whenever Latisha and I are done with them at least."  
  
  
  
Harry lay in bed. He was troubled. Around him was the sound of sleep, which was manifested by the loud, deep breathing sounds of his roommates. But Harry had resisted sleep's alluring call. His mind wasn't focused on visions of sugarplums dancing or numbered sheep, it was instead elsewhere.  
  
"I wouldn't tell you unless I know he would be okay with me telling."  
  
Now what was that supposed to mean? Harry pondered over the words, puzzled. The only logical conclusion to be drawn seemed to be that Fred had some sort of secret that he, Harry, did not know. And that George didn't want to be the one to tell Fred's secret to him.  
  
Fred having a secret upset Harry a little. Before recently Harry had never considered himself to be close to the redhead. They were friends, but they weren't as terribly close as he was with Ron and Hermione. But due to strong circumstances Fred had acquired knowledge of one of his secrets, which he hadn't told Ron and Hermione about. And since then they had seemed to be closer.  
  
And Harry had the nagging feeling that this secret either had something to do with him, or that it would at least interest him in some way.  
  
Harry bolted upright in his bed. He had to go talk to Fred. Right now. There was no question about it or concern as to the hour; he had made up his mind.  
  
He tossed off his sheets and slipped into the pair of slippers that were beside his bed. After putting on a robe he walked silently out of the fifth year dormitory.  
  
It was just a short way down the hall that the seventh year boys' dormitory was located. Harry remembered where it was, after all, he had been there just a few hours prior.  
  
He entered the room, taking great care to try not to make to much noise when he turned the doorknob and opened the massive oak door. As he stood in the dimly lit room he realized he had a problem. The curtains were drawn on all the beds, and he didn't want to go around looking into each person's bed. That was a bit too intrusive for his taste.  
  
Instead he walked silently around the room, looking for clues as to which bed could be Fred's. As luck would have it, there was a sweater draped over the trunk that was in front of one of the beds. It was a sweater that Harry recognized immediately as a Weasley sweater. And upon closer inspection of the garment it had an "F" across the chest of it.  
  
Harry took a deep breath, reminding himself why he had come there, and drew back a curtain. There was nothing. No one was in the bed, least of all the person he had come to find. The sheets were rumpled however, and it seemed to Harry that Fred must be up and about somewhere.  
  
He considered going back to his dorm room and going to sleep, but his curious side had gotten the better of him and he really wanted to find out as soon as possible what Fred's secret was. So naturally a better idea than just going back to bed came to mind. Why not use the Marauder's Map? Harry wondered.  
  
Taking care to close the door as quietly as he had opened it, Harry hurried out of the seventh year dorm room and headed back to his own. He had just walked into his room and was headed toward his trunk where the Marauder's Map was safely stored when he felt something give under his foot. There was a sudden hiss and then his feet gave out from under him and he felt himself fall.  
  
  
  
"Harry?" A distant voice called. "Harry?" The same voice called again, this time sounding closer. He was suddenly aware of an acute pain that seemed to be radiating from somewhere in his head. He groaned weakly.  
  
Someone was shaking his shoulder. "Harry?" The voice called again. "Wake up mate!" He began to open his eyes slowly. Mistake. The bright light seemed to make the pain in his head grow even greater. "Earth to Harry." The voice called yet again.  
  
"What is it?" He mumbled sleepily, scrunching his eyes shut.  
  
"Oh Harry, I'm glad you're okay." The voice, which sounded suspiciously like Ron, said cheerfully. "How'd this happen?"  
  
"What?" Harry tried opening his eyes again. This time the effect wasn't so bad. After a moment he was able to make out that there was a person standing over him. "Ron?"  
  
There was the distinct sound of someone laughing, which made Harry feel even more grouchy than he had a moment ago, if that was even possible. If he felt miserable and had a headache the size of a woolly mammoth then every one else had no right to feel any differently, let alone laugh at this hour in the morning.  
  
Harry groaned and reached to pull the blankets up over his head. It was at this point that Harry realized that there were no blankets. It was also at this point that Harry became aware for the first time that he was laying on the floor. He groaned again. To his experience it was never a good sign for the rest of the day when one found one's self sleeping on the floor.  
  
He attempted to sit up, but immediately went back to laying on the floor. "Ron, why am I not okay?"  
  
The redhead shrugged. "I dunno. Seems like you went and tripped, and then you landed flat out on your face. Probably knocked you out. You don't remember?"  
  
Harry shook his head no, but then switched to nodding. "Yes, I remember. Well, sort of. It was late and I went to ask your brother a question, but he wasn't there and then I came in to go back to bed I think, and something happened and I don't remember."  
  
"My brother?" Ron asked, curious. "Which one?"  
  
"Fred, I think." Harry said slowly. It should be illegal to ask questions to someone with a headache he decided. "Yes, I'm pretty sure it was Fred."  
  
"What did you need to ask my brother that was so important that you had to ask in the middle of the night. Was it so important that you couldn't have waited till the morning?" Ron asked, slightly amused and still very curious.  
  
Oh, how he hated being interrogated when he had a headache! But seeing as Ron was his friend Harry decided to try and answer his question. But he couldn't. "I..." He struggled to find the memory at all. "I, I'm sorry Ron, I simply can't recall quite what I was going to ask at all."  
  
"See? It obviously wasn't so important that you couldn't wait till morning." Ron smiled widely. "Now what do you say I help you off that hard old floor and you and I head down to breakfast? We can probably catch up to the others."  
  
Harry looked around. He just then realized none of his other roommates were present. "They're not here?" He asked, slightly puzzled.  
  
"Well, at first we thought you were sleeping on the floor just to sleep on the floor. Or for some reason that we weren't aware of. But the point is that we thought you had a reason." Ron explained. "So the other boys said they'd go on to breakfast and I told them I'd wait for you and we'd meet them down there."  
  
Harry smiled weakly. "That was nice of you Ron."  
  
Ron flashed Harry a grin and puffed out his chest. "Well, what can I say? I'm just an extremely nice guy." He said with mock arrogance.  
  
Harry snorted. "Uh-huh. Mr. Humble I presume." He beckoned for Ron to continue.  
  
"Well anyway, I started getting worried about you so that's when I decided I'd try to wake you up. And that's when you woke up." Ron finished. "So you reckon you tripped and were knocked out?"  
  
"Yeah." Harry nodded. "I probably tripped over Crookshanks. I seem to remember a hiss which sounded awfully like him." A sudden surge of pain reminded him of his headache. "That darn cat." He cursed. "Can't stay out of people's ways sometimes."  
  
Ron smirked. "You know I always said that cat was no good."  
  
Harry made a face. "Don't get started on that again. First off the cat had the intelligence to recognize Sirius, and secondly the cat belongs to Hermione, need I remind you? Get mad at the cat and she'll be mad at you."  
  
"Well you're no fun." He pouted.  
  
"Yes, I know." Harry smiled. "Now for some more no-fun how would you like to accompany me to the infirmary on the way to breakfast? I need a potion to take away this horrid headache or I'll simply explode."  
  
  
  
Breakfast was halfway over by the time Ron and Harry entered the Great Hall, and all the eggs were cold. But Harry, who was past the point of caring about the temperature of his food, ate the eggs anyway. Ron, who still cared about the temperature of his food, complained about the temperature of the said food, but ate some of it anyway.  
  
It was while the two boys were eating eggs that Dumbledore stood up from his seat at the faculty table and the room fell silent as the students took notice that he was about to make an announcement.  
  
"As you all know," Dumbledore began, "there is a dance fast approaching us. However I'm sure that not to many of you know quite how fast it is approaching us, with the exception being the Divination students." He said, winking at Professor Trelawny (who was making one of her rare meal appearances). Harry's eyes were immediately drawn to rest on Miko Honta, who was sitting at the Ravenclaw table with a group of upper- classmen, upon the mention of Divination students.  
  
Dumbledore continued. "Because of the difficulty that we have been having booking entertainment, the dance will have to be this weekend." There was a wave of excited murmurs that passed across the house tables.  
  
Hermione however was not too excited looking. "This weekend? I have an alchemy paper due Monday!" She complained. Ron gave her a look though and held a finger to his mouth to shush her.  
  
"The entertainment will be a surprise of course." Dumbledore said, a twinkle in his eyes. "I do love surprises." He paused, apparently caught in a moment of deep thought. His brows, which had been furrowed in concentration, suddenly straightened. "That is all." He finished, sitting back down in his chair.  
  
"That's so great!" Ginny exclaimed from a few seats down. "Though that does give me less time to find a date." She said slyly, throwing a look of longing at Seamus. The Irish boy was too involved with his food to notice Ginny's hints however and her efforts were wasted.  
  
Harry poked a biscuit on his plate bitterly. He had not wanted to remember the dance. Because the dance reminded him of a certain Mr. Malfoy who he was required to dance with. The thought made him pale for two main reasons.  
  
The first reason was that he had no experience whatsoever in the matter of dancing with males. He had on occasion danced with people of the female variety, but those occasions were few and far between. Not to mention that he wasn't even good at dancing with girls, so it didn't seem possible that he could be good when it came to boys. He had only recently been able to accept the fact that he was attracted to boys, but the thought of dancing with a boy? The thought made him uncomfortable.  
  
The second reason was the more major factor that was responsible for his general discomfort regarding the subject of the dance with Malfoy. And that was that in order to dance with Malfoy he had to dance with Malfoy. Anything that had to do with Malfoy was something he would rather avoid after the heartbreaking rejection he had gone through. It hurt. It wasn't that he was in love per say, but he was certainly attracted to Malfoy, and even more certain was the fact that he had been rejected.  
  
Harry bit his lip. He had never considered himself arrogant or conceited, but fact that he had been rejected bothered him almost as much as the fact that the person he was attracted to despised him. Malfoy definitely did despise him. In fact, Malfoy had even said it himself that he hated him.  
  
He wanted to forget. He wanted to go back. He wanted to go back and make sure none of this could have ever happened. He hated it. He hated the whole situation. He hated Malfoy too. He hated Malfoy for getting him into this situation. He hated Malfoy for being so darn attractive. He hated Malfoy for being so attractive that he actually began to be attracted to him. He was attracted to him. He liked him.  
  
"Harry?" Ron asked, nudging his buddy. "Your lip is bleeding."  
  
Harry blinked, now aware that he had been zoned out. "Oh," he replied, putting a finger to his lip to confirm to himself that it was indeed bleeding. "Hmm. You know what? I'm suddenly not feeling too well. I think I'll just go up to the dorm to rest for a bit."  
  
"Well don't be late to Charms." Hermione reminded him as he got up from his seat at the house table. "It's our first class today."  
  
Harry nodded absent-mindedly, not listening, and proceeded to walk out of the Great Hall in the direction of Gryffindor Tower. Ron watched his friend walk out, his eyes filled with concern.  
  
He turned towards Hermione. "You know, I've been worried about Harry lately. He's been acting so... oddly." He said, trying to keep his voice low so that those seated around them wouldn't overhear.  
  
Hermione sighed. "Does this have anything to do with a certain person whom he happens to have a crush on?"  
  
Ron wrinkled up his nose. "Ew no, don't remind me Hermione! I've been trying to be pleasant about that subject when he's around, and I've been sort of alright so far I reckon. I don't want to loose our friendship over that! But please do my sanity a favor and not mention or even allude to that dolt! The very thought of him makes me mad!"  
  
Hermione smiled slightly. "Well then what would you reckon has been strange about Harry lately?"  
  
"Well," Ron paused, trying to decide what exactly had been strange, "I can't say. I haven't been able to quite put my finger on what precisely it is, but he just seems to be behaving peculiarly lately, haven't you noticed?"  
  
A smile formed across Hermione's face. "Oh Ron!" She giggled. "I thought you were going to say something was actually wrong with Harry. That you were worried about him for some sort of reason that was actually valid."  
  
Ron frowned. "What? You don't believe me?"  
  
"It's not that," Hermione said, still smiling, "it's just that it's not unnatural for teenaged boys to go through the kind of emotions that Harry's been going through lately. You only think he's behaving strangely because it seems strange to you. Ron, Harry's just starting to grow up."  
  
Ron pouted and folded his arms across his chest. "Are you saying that I'm immature?" He accused.  
  
Hermione grinned. "No, of course not. Though you should know that you look terribly child-like with your arms like that." Ron's frown deepened and he immediately uncrossed his arms. Hermione laughed. "But it looks cute like that as well as looking child-like."  
  
Ron brightened a little at that. "So you don't think that something's wrong with Harry?"  
  
She shook her head. "Nah. He's just being a boy. Boys are weird sometimes. Well, most of the time."  
  
"And girls aren't?" Ron asked, agitated.  
  
Hermione's eyes lit up. "Oh, are you jealous because you haven't found yourself a date to the dance yet?"  
  
"How do you know that I haven't?" Ron asked, narrowing his eyes. "I might have and didn't tell you that I had."  
  
She smirked. "Ron, if you had found a date you wouldn't be able to stop talking about it. And since I've heard no mention of it that's how I know you haven't found one yet." She became suddenly sympathetic. "But don't feel bad, there's still time. And if you want I could set you up with one of my girlfriends."  
  
The look on Ron's face told her that he wasn't particularly thrilled with that possibility. "Gee, I wouldn't want to put you through all that trouble."  
  
Hermione beamed. She was going to have ~fun~ with this! "Oh, no trouble at all! In fact I'd be glad to!"  
  
"Why do I have a bad feeling about this?" Ron moaned as he realized he was now committed. Once Hermione had a plan she stuck with it. And from the look on her face it seemed as though there was something about this plan that she wasn't telling him. And that naturally worried him a great deal...  
  
Author's notes:  
  
Heh. I'm sure you're all wondering where I was and what the heck I was thinking "ignoring" this story for over a month. Well I was busy with something in particular, but now I'm done so I can devote my time to this! The end is in sight, I can't for sure say how many more chapters there will be.  
  
been busy (then again, almost all of us have), and I was in a bad mood for a long time (but now I'm out of my slump. Or so I think). And I've had school work. And... Well, I really can't say much else without being really obnoxious, and no one wants to hear me babble too much anyway.  
  
Despite that, I'm going to babble some more anyway. I plan on aiming at one chapter a week, which seems do-able for now. PLEASE FORGIVE ME! *wacks self with stick* I've been bad, I know. Most people (Or Myra at least) are sitting there thinking: "Why is she offering excuses and trying to make it sound like she had better things to do? She's just LAZY!" But that's not entirely true. And I do promise to be better though from now on.  
  
Two British literature works (other than HP!) that have inspired me lately:  
  
(1) "The Importance of Being Earnest". I saw it performed by a local college recently. I love the story, it's great! I'm psyched for the movie.  
  
(2) "Maquerade" by Kit Williams. I know it's a picture book, but it's the best! Every time I read it, it intrigues me more.  
  
I'm going to stop babbling and start making sense again.  
  
I've read two HP fics lately that are amazing! The first one is "Unthinkable Thoughts" by Adian Lynch. It's a HP/DM, and it's really good. Thank you thank you thank you for recommending it to me Miyama Ishida!! Everyone except for Myra should go read it, each chapter is better than the last!  
  
The second one is "The Losing Side" by Antenora. It's a HP/DM too, and it's very dark, but way good. It's so lovely that I even had it stuck floating in my head so I ended up doing a fanart of it. Am I ever going to mail it to the great and mighty Antenora? Um, no. I haven't mastered my watercolors yet.  
  
Major thank yous are in order! Here goes: Marionette, Night Spirit, Miyama Ishida, Lina Inverse the Dramata, Sorceress Jade, Queen Strata, Ambrosius, SoulSister, Pasty (who I'm way indebted to!), Myra ("Where's chapter twenty?"), and everyone who I forgot, because I'm way grateful to all my reviewers. Even if I forgot to mention you by name (I'm an idiot, I apologize) I still love you.  
  
I need constructive criticism.  
  
Random quote time!  
  
"They told me I was gullible, and I believed them." 


End file.
